


Magical Friendship 3

by ThatMasterOnline



Series: Magical Friendship [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 27,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMasterOnline/pseuds/ThatMasterOnline
Summary: In the aftermath of his mother's death, Crowley is forced to mature faster than he wants. Through it all, he tries to protect Aziraphale's innocence.Will I come up with better titles? Yeah, maybe. The possibility exists.tw for murder in the first chapter
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Magical Friendship [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656478
Comments: 30
Kudos: 58





	1. The Intruder

**Author's Note:**

> We're startng this one off on a noticeably darker tone, so heads up for violence (murder) in the first chapter.

Aziraphale couldn't sleep. He gently wiggled himself out from under Crowley's arm and padded toward the door, pausing to smile at the sight of Crowley's father sleeping peacefully with his son.

It was a warm night, so he crept outside as he was in his pyjamas, slipping on his shoes and walking through the fields of tall grass outside. He breathed in the night air, feeling the tips of the grass brushing his fingertips with the breeze and looking up at the stars. He couldn't help it; he worried about Crowley. What would happen now, whether he would miss Aziraphale more when they were apart, whether he would be alright. For the first time, Aziraphale didn't want to be at home, he wanted to be here supporting Crowley. Where he was needed. Aziraphale wanted to be a shoulder for Crowley to cry on, but he didn't want to impose. And, he had to admit, he had come to be fond of Bea, who had loved him despite her cold exterior. He was mourning her, as well. Perhaps that was part of what prompted him to be outside, to be alone, just for a few minutes, to seek solace in nature and express his own grief without imposing on Crowley's. Just a few minutes. Then he would go back in.

***

There was a foreign scent in the air. 

The breeze wafted in from outside, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of a human. A human on their property, or he wouldn't have been able to smell it. He was alert at once, noting with a stab of panic that Aziraphale was not in the room where he should be. He flicked out his tongue. Aziraphale's scent was present, but no longer close. This was not a quick trip to the washroom, then. He silently dropped off the bed, tongue anxiously darting out rapid-fire to track the scents in the area. Where was Aziraphale, and where was Aziraphale in relation to this intruder. Disturbingly, Aziraphale's scent led outside, which placed him closer to the intruder, to danger. He slithered outside, and things fell into place in an uncomfortable picture.

The intruder was creeping towards the house on his right side, her wand drawn, intending violence. 

Aziraphale stood outside on his left. With the house between them, neither was aware of the other's existence...yet.

This was bad. Aziraphale could hear the sounds of commotion and go to investigate. Or a misfired spell could hit him. Any number of things could happen. In being outside, Aziraphale was undeniably at risk. But so was Crowley. He had perhaps a minute before the intruder crept into the house and murdered his son in cold blood. He could not protect Aziraphale and sacrifice his son...But if Aziraphale came to harm or was killed in the crossfire, Crowley would be inconsolable.

Aziraphale had to be dealt with first, but quickly. There was no time to explain. He could only hope that Aziraphale's capacity for forgiveness was as boundless as Crowley claimed it was.

He darted behind Aziraphale, lightning-quick, rearing up high and striking his left shoulder, fangs plunging into tender flesh and releasing his venom into the bloodstream. In the corners of his vision, he could see Aziraphale's face scrunch up and his lips part, releasing a high, muted cry of pain. His heart clenched at the sight. He had no time to dwell, though. He was back down in the grass and darting towards the intruder in a heartbeat, the single telltale vibration from the ground behind him telling him Aziraphale had collapsed and would remain safely hidden in the tall grass. Good. He could focus on the hunt. 

As always, intruders meant food. Bea had put up several signs along the edge of the property warning that trespassers would be killed and eaten. In ignoring those signs, this woman had forfeited her life. The intruder was a few steps away from the window when Crowley's father caught up to her, striking her in much the same way he had Aziraphale. At least, so far as the initial strike was concerned.

This time, his fangs stayed buried in the woman's shoulder, releasing as much of his venom as he could into her blood. It was a numbing agent and could be fatal in large amounts, but with the lives of two children on the line, one his son and one as good as, "in large amounts" wasn't fast enough. He wrapped the entirety of his body around hers, coiling three times and squeezing with the full force of his muscular body. With every exhale he tightened his grip, until the woman couldn't breathe and was suffocating. He fell with her, her struggles not nearly enough to dislodge him. A few minutes later, when the convulsions had stopped, he assessed the woman.

She was an adult woman, but small of stature. Small, dainty. With wands, physical prowess wasn't required to be capable of the worst crimes. Good, he wouldn't have to ask his already distraught son for help disposing of the body. He flicked his tongue out one last time to check, but there were no other foreign scents. Good. He unhinged his jaw and opened his mouth wide, swallowing the woman whole, a process that took several long minutes. Afterwards, he lay completely still, falling asleep while he digested. 

With such a small body, Aziraphale would remain unconscious for several hours while the venom worked its way through his system. And Crowley never woke early in the morning. The morning would bring with it chaos and no small amount of trauma and tears for poor Aziraphale, but right now, Mr. Crowley could rest secure in the knowledge that both children were safe and - in some capacity - asleep. 


	2. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to shadowsonasphalt for the beautiful multitude of comments! I promise that there will be more chapters out soon!

When Mr. Crowley woke later, the morning sun was shining down on him, warming his body. He noted that he had mostly digested the woman, enough that he could move around. He scented the air, smelling blood coming from Aziraphale. He wasn't prepared to handle that, he needed Crowley's help. Returning to the house, he climbed up onto the bed and nudged Crowley.

**_"Wake up."_ **

**_"Dad…? What is it?"_ **

**_"Aziraphale needs you. He is injured."_ **

**_"Injured?"_** Crowley was already out of bed and following his father out the door into the tall grass near their house. 

**_"I am sorry, Crowley, I had no choice."_ **

**_"No choice? Dad, what-"_** "Aziraphale!" 

Aziraphale was right where he had been left, collapsed in the grass.

"Aziraphale? Aziraphale, hey!" Those calls were enough to rouse him, and Crowley could have cried when Aziraphale groaned and opened his eyes.

"Crowley…"

"Aziraphale, are you alright? What happened? Can you sit up?" The questions were rapid-fire, and Aziraphale could barely focus.

"Yes, I...I think so...can you help me?" He held up his right hand and Crowley took it, pulling him up, using his other hand to help when Aziraphale suddenly cried out in pain.

"Angel?!"

"My...my shoulder…" Aziraphale put a hand to his left shoulder and Crowley paled when he saw a bloodstain the size of a fist on the back of Aziraphale's shoulder.

"Fuck, you're bleeding, angel. Let's get you inside, can you stand?"

"Yes, I think so…" Crowley wrapped an arm around Aziraphale's waist and Aziraphale clung to Crowley with his good arm, and together they walked towards the house. Crowley's father was behind them, and Crowley noticed Aziraphale kept sending not-so-subtle anxious glances backwards.

"I...I couldn't sleep, last night," Aziraphale began, "I went outside, just to...breathe in the air, be alone for a while. I...I was standing outside in the grass when...when...I was attacked…"

"Attacked? By who, did you see them?"

"I...I felt pain in my shoulder, and then everything went foggy...I tried to turn around to see what happened, and I...I...I…I thought I saw...your...your father…" Crowley went quiet.

**_"You bit him?"_ **

**_"I had no choice, Crowley."_ **

**_"You_ ** **_bit him_ ** **_?! What were you thinking?!"_ **

**_"He was in danger, I needed him out of the way."_ **

**_"So you_ ** **_bit him_ ** **_?! Was that...did you...Did you...Was that_ ** **_your_ ** **_venom that made him pass out?!"_ **

**_"Just enough to numb him, not a drop more."_ **

**_"That was_ ** **_your_ ** **_venom?! I can't believe this, you attacked Aziraphale! My_ ** **_friend_ ** **_!!"_ **

**_"I had no choice."_ **

**_"_** ** _What does that even mean_** ** _?!"_** Aziraphale couldn't understand what they were saying, but it was clear from the rising volume of Crowley's tone and how much he was spitting that he was furious.

"Crowley, don't...don't be angry, please…" Crowley, with a sinking feeling in his gut, understood that to mean  _ please don't make your father angry _ .

"...It wasn't your fault, Aziraphale. Nobody's angry with you."

"..." Aziraphale swallowed, looking away. Aziraphale was terrified. Of Crowley's father. Crowley clenched his jaw with the effort, but managed to force himself to keep his tone even.

**_"As soon as I've gotten him in bed, you and I are going to have a talk."_ **

**_"Yes. I think we need to."_ **

**_"You_** ** _think_** ** _."_** Crowley shook his head and looked away, leading Aziraphale into the washroom.

"Sit down here, angel. I'm...going to have to take off your pyjama shirt to see, is that okay?"

"Yes, that's alright." Crowley gently peeled off the pyjama shirt, shushing Aziraphale when he hissed in pain. Crowley took a cloth and gently began wiping away the excess blood. Sure enough, there were two fang marks in his shoulder that started bleeding again the moment Crowley dabbed at them (Crowley  _ glared _ at his father). He washed the wounds with water then wrapped Aziraphale's shoulder in bandages.

"There, all done. The good news is it's not serious, the snake venom just makes it harder for you to stop bleeding, which is a good thing, you won't get an infection. You mostly stopped bleeding already, so you just need to let it sit for a few days, maybe a week or so, and it should heal up by then."

"I'll be alright?"

"Oh yeah, like I said, a little rest, some proper food in you, you'll be fine. How about we get you to bed, yeah?"

"Yes, please." Crowley helped Aziraphale up, and they walked to bed, slowly. Crowley tucked Aziraphale in, but before he could leave Aziraphale said, "Crowley?"

"Yeah?"

"I...I don't mean to be a bother, but...could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep? It won't be long…" Aziraphale was afraid to be alone. Here, in what basically amounted to his own home. Crowley sat, turning his face away so Aziraphale couldn't see his eyes.

"...'Course, angel."

It didn't take long for Aziraphale to fall asleep, even with everything that had happened. Crowley crept out of the bedroom, walking quietly to the living room with his father trailing behind.

**_"...How is he?"_ **

**_"How do you think, he's terrified! What happened?"_ **

**_"There was an intruder. Aziraphale was in danger. You both were."_ **

**_"...A...what?"_ **

**_"An intruder. ...An intruder is someone who-"_ **

**_"_** ** _I know what an intruder is_** ** _!"_** Crowley snapped. **_"What do you_** ** _mean_** ** _there was an intruder?"_**

**_"There was a woman. She had her wand out and she was creeping toward the house. What would you have assumed?"_ **

**_"...That she was going to attack. But then why did you bite Aziraphale?"_ **

**_"I did not have time to explain the situation to him. The woman was minutes away from sneaking into the house and possibly killing you. If I attacked the woman first, the sounds might have drawn Aziraphale. What if he had gotten killed in the crossfire? I chose the only way to keep Aziraphale safe, and do it quickly enough to protect you. I'm sorry Aziraphale had to get hurt in the process, but you are both alive because of my actions. I will not apologize for that."_ **

**_"...You couldn't have just pulled him down to the ground?"_ **

**_"If I thought he would have fallen without asking questions I would have. I thought the sound of Aziraphale's voice might draw the intruder, putting him at risk."_ ** Crowley fell silent for a good long while. 

**_"You have to see the logic of what I'm saying, Crowley."_ **

**_"Well, we can't all live in a world where 'I did it to survive' makes everything okay! I'm a human, I have other things to consider!"_ **

**_"As I recall, you left the kids at your school to fend for themselves to focus only on protecting Aziraphale during the vampire snake incident, how is this different?"_ **

**_"I hated leaving them defenceless! I couldn't protect them all, but I hated it!"_ **

**_"And I hated hurting Aziraphale, but I didn't have time to explain and I needed him taken care of quietly. You're angry with me because I made sure you_** ** _survived_** ** _to be angry. Aziraphale is traumatized, yes, but he's_** ** _alive_** ** _. Any other course of action could not have guaranteed the both of you survived the night. You and Aziraphale are_** ** _alive_** ** _, Crowley. The current consequences of my actions are a small price to pay, especially when I consider that I could have lost one or both of you last night."_** Crowley fell silent, but he was very clearly fuming. Finally he turned away, refusing to meet his father's gaze.

 ** _"Can I take this to mean I'm forgiven?"_** Crowley's father asked.

 ** _"I'll forgive you when Aziraphale feels safe enough to let you sleep with him again,"_** Crowley snapped.


	3. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update before we go on: 
> 
> First, I'm sorry about the wait. My muse has been not great - Covid 19 and all that, I think, is really hitting me hard - I'm still in love with the story, and I do have plot points planned right up until the very end of this fic, so I will finish it.
> 
> Second, my personal preference for when I write fic is to have tons and tons written ahead of what I have posted, so that I can keep posting through museless weeks. I have another chapter written, but I'd like to write at least two or three more before I post it, so there will be a bit of a wait. Hopefully it won't be too long, and I'll be able to post again soon. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter!

"...Why…?" Aziraphale began, and Crowley sighed, already knowing what he meant. Aziraphale had just woken from his rest, and Crowley was with him, like he'd never left.

"Dad says there was an intruder. She was going to kill me, or something, and he was worried if he attacked her you would come see what was happening. He was scared you would get hurt accidentally, so he used his venom to just...knock you out, so you'd be safe."

"Someone was...going to kill you?"

"Well, she had her wand out, at least, so she wasn't friendly."

"I see…But...why would someone want to hurt you?"

"I don't know, angel. Like I said, kids can be vicious when they want to be. I imagine the adults are even worse."

"But…" Crowley waited, but Aziraphale only sighed.

"Was he hurt? Your dad?"

"I didn't ask. Didn't look it, though."

"That's good…" Aziraphale sighed. He reached for his wound, and Crowley gently patted his shoulder.

"You don't have to go outside if you don't want to. You can stay here, I'll close the door, bring you everything you need." Aziraphale looked like he was considering it, which only served to make Crowley feel worse. Aziraphale shouldn't be this afraid, not here.

"...No," he finally said, "I...I can't...I won't. He...he was helping. I...I won't...let myself...be afraid. I want to go out and see him." Crowley sighed, and nodded.

"Alright. You hungry?"

"Oh, yes."

"Alright. I'll make you something. Probably just a sandwich, but it's better than nothing."

"Yes, please. Thank you." Crowley took Aziraphale's arm, and they walked out to the living room, where Crowley's father perked up, looking at Aziraphale. Aziraphale froze, but kept walking, sitting down and keeping a noticeable distance away from Crowley's father. Crowley's father flicked his tongue out, and Aziraphale once again felt that his every thought had been found out, just like the first time they'd met.

**_"He chose to be near me?"_ ** Crowley's father asked quietly.

**_"And you're going to be on your best damn behaviour, understand?"_ **

**_"Perfectly. Will you pass on my apologies?"_ **

"Dad says he's sorry." Aziraphale gulped.

"Oh…Erm…"

"Are you alright to wait here a minute while I make a sandwich?"

"I...I think so, yes…" Crowley nodded.

**_"There. Apology passed on."_ ** And he walked out of the room. Mr. Crowley curled up and went still, pretending to be asleep and acutely aware of the fact that Aziraphale flinched the moment he moved. Crowley returned with a sandwich and gave it to Aziraphale, then sat down beside him. There was a silence as Aziraphale ate.

**_"...He truly chose to be here?"_ ** Crowley's father asked.

**_"Is that important to you for some reason?"_ **

**_"Only as another example of Aziraphale's commendable bravery."_ **

**_"He shouldn't have to be_ ** **_brave_ ** **_in his own home."_ **

**_"But he is."_ ** Crowley elected not to respond, turning his attention back to Aziraphale.

"Does your shoulder hurt?"

"...A little. Mostly when I move it."

"Okay. If you need anything, let me know, alright?"

"Alright." More silence. 

Aziraphale looked like he wanted to say something, but he eventually decided against it.

"Dad thinks you're brave," Crowley said, after a time.

"Oh, well...thank you." Crowley shrugged.

"Are you...alright?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley shrugged again.

"Don't worry about me, angel, you're the one who's injured."

"But you're upset, Crowley, I can tell. Are you angry at your dad?"

"...Yes, angel, I'm angry at him. You're afraid, angel, afraid to even be near him when you used to cuddle up together. I don't like it. And he hurt you, angel. I never, ever would have thought…" Crowley sighed, not finishing the sentence.

"...You're upset because I'm hurt."

"What kind of stupid question is that?! Of course I'm upset, you're my friend! Just...when I went outside, when I saw you just...lying there…" Aziraphale leaned his head on Crowley's shoulder.

"Oh, Crowley...I'm so sorry…"

"S'not  _ you  _ that needs to apologize, it's him, and he won't!"

"...You just said he was sorry for hurting me."

"He's sorry you got hurt, he's not sorry for hurting you."

"I...well, if somebody was trying to hurt you, and if that was the only way to get-"

" _ Stop it _ , angel. I don't want to forgive him. I already said I'll forgive him when you feel safe enough to sleep with him again, and I'm not changing my mind."

"...Well, that sounds reasonable. It means your dad is going to try very hard to win my trust back."

"Good for him." Aziraphale sighed. Crowley had been through so much. Losing his mother, and then this…

"I will admit, the timing of all this has been...not quite good." Crowley snorted.

"Got that right," he said.

"...I'm sorry, was that-"

"No, no, s'fine. It  _ was  _ kind of funny, and you're right. It  _ has _ been a shit couple of months." Aziraphale smiled.

"That it has."


	4. The Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! My muse seems to have recovered somewhat, so I hope to keep posting with some regularity. Thanks for sticking with me, and be on the lookout for a very slight nod to a line in the Hamilton musical somewhere in this chapter!

Mr. Crowley  _ was  _ exceedingly gentle in the coming weeks. He was louder than usual as he moved around the house, to not startle Aziraphale, and he spent many days placidly curled up.

Aziraphale's wound healed up after a week, as Crowley had said, though it did scar. His parents would ask about it if they saw it, no doubt, but they never dressed him or tended to him or did anything that would involve them seeing his naked body, so he had nothing to worry about.

***

**_"...What happened to her?"_ **

**_"To who? The intruder?"_ **

**_"Yes."_ **

**_"...Your mother put up signs around the edge of our property."_ **

**_"Yeah, trespassers will be...Dad...you didn't. Tell me you didn't."_ **

**_"Those signs were not a joke, Crowley."_ **

**_"You...you…"_ ** "I'm gonna be sick-" Crowley got up and bolted for the washroom, and Aziraphale looked up, alarmed.

"Crowley?" Both Aziraphale and Mr. Crowley followed him to the washroom, where Aziraphale knelt and gently put a hand on his back to comfort him as he retched.

"It's alright, Crowley, I'm here…"

**_"Crowley, what's happening?"_ ** Aziraphale didn't understand, and Crowley couldn't respond.

"It's alright, Crowley...I'll-I'll get you some water, alright?" Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale patted his back gently before getting up. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Crowley," Aziraphale said, skirting around him and to the kitchen. Mr. Crowley followed Aziraphale, watching him with intense focus. Aziraphale turned on the water in the kitchen, feeling it with his finger. When he deemed it acceptable, Aziraphale filled a glass, then wet a cloth under the stream and wrung it out. Mr. Crowley ducked his head under the stream as well. Cold, very, very cold. Aziraphale wanted cold water. He shook his head off, and Aziraphale gently, if nervously, patted Mr. Crowley's head with the cloth, getting rid of the excess droplets.

**_"Thanksssss,"_ ** Mr. Crowley said, and Aziraphale smiled quietly before heading back to Crowley, who had stopped retching and was now leaning against the wall with the back of his hand pressed against his mouth.

"Here, Crowley." Crowley nodded, taking the water and swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. He sipped some of the water, swallowing and grimacing, then took the cloth and dabbed his neck and face with it.

"...What happened, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked.

"H-" Crowley stopped. Looked up at Aziraphale. Swallowed and looked away.

"...Nothing, angel. Nothing. Just...mum. You know."

"I do. Do you want to lie down?"

"For...for a little bit, yeah. Just...yeah. Sorry."

"It's alright, Crowley, I'm sure I can occupy myself for a few hours."

"Yeah." Aziraphale went to the living room, and Crowley went to his bedroom, and Mr. Crowley followed his son.

**_"You didn't tell Aziraphale."_ **

**_"And?"_ **

**_"And nothing. Just a comment."_ **

**_"Fine."_ **

**_"Why not?"_ **

**_"He doesn't need to know."_ **

**_"Alright. ...What happened, Crowley? I've never seen you like that."_ **

**_"Got sick. ...You ate someone, dad."_ **

**_"...And you are alive because of it."_ **

**_"No, we're alive because you killed her. Fine. You didn't have to eat her."_ **

**_"What would have had me do instead?"_ **

**_"Literally anything."_ **

**_"Return her body to her family?"_ **

**_"For a start."_ **

**_"Have her family report me to the authorities? Be taken away? Killed on sight? Leave my son without anyone who can care for him so soon after the death of his mother? That's what would have happened if anyone found out about her."_ ** Crowley fell silent.

**_"I understand these are not ideal circumstances, Crowley. I'm sorry these things need to be done, but they need to be done. Please, try to understand."_ **

**_"...What was she even doing here? Why would she want to try to kill...whoever?"_ **

**_"...I would prefer not to say."_ **

**_"You have no problems telling me you murdered a woman and attacked my best friend, but_ ** **_now_ ** **_you're trying to spare my feelings? Just tell me."_ **

**_"...Crowley...There are some people in this world...who do not approve of a child born of a human mother and a serpent father."_ **

**_"...Me?"_ **

**_"I am sorry, that is why I did not want to tell you."_ **

**_"But why now? I'm thirteen, if they wanted to kill me, why not do it earlier?"_ **

**_"..."_ **

**_"...They have been. There have been others. This wasn't the first one."_ ** Even in parseltongue, Crowley's voice sounded small.

**_"...It was the first one I did not have your mother's assistance for."_ **

**_"You took care of it perfectly fine yourself last night, what did you need mom for?"_ **

**_"Sometimes...I could not...Crowley, there isn't a nice way to put this…"_ ** Crowley smiled a little, remembering he'd said exactly the same thing right before telling Aziraphale how he'd ended up with snake eyes. Aziraphale had been so accepting, even willing to come over, to meet his father, they'd grown so close…Crowley was crying again. His father wrapped around him, rubbing against his cheek, and Crowley had neither the strength nor the willpower to push him away, no matter how upset with him he was.

**_"Oh, Crowley...My son...I love you so, so much, never forget that. I do what I must to keep you safe. I love you, more than anything in this life. Always remember that."_ **

Despite all of this, he knew they'd be close again. They were going through a rough time, but Aziraphale would forgive his dad for biting him, they'd all get over his mother's death, and they'd maybe even have another Christmas. All because Aziraphale was the kindest bloody person he knew. He'd known kids could be monsters when they wanted to be, he'd spent his entire childhood getting ostracized for his snake eyes...why was it so hard to learn that kids didn't magically become more accepting when they grew up?

**_"I'm...I'm fine. Just tell me."_ **

**_"...I can't always swallow them whole like I did with the woman from before. Sometimes your mother would need to cut them up."_ **

**_"... Mum? **_Mum...did that to people?"_ ** _**

**__**

**_"...Your mother wanted to keep you safe as well, Crowley."_ **

**__**

**_"...I don't...I need time. To...to…"_ **

**__**

**_"To process, I understand. If...you would prefer to take a year off school...Your mother made the necessary arrangements, all they need is an owl. ...Pity, that. Owls make such excellent snacks."_ ** Crowley laughed despite himself.

**__**

**_"Was that...a joke?"_ **

**__**

**_"Yes. I see it worked."_ **

**__**

**_"Your sense of humour is terrible."_ ** And yet Crowley was still laughing.  **_"Those are our mail carriers, you can't eat them."_ **

**__**

**_"I'm well aware...It's still a pity."_ ** Crowley smiled a little.

**__**

**_"If I...if I stay home...I'll be away from Aziraphale. I...I dunno. I'll think about it."_ **

**__**

**_"They'll need to know by next week."_ **

**__**

**_"Okay. I'll keep that in mind."_ **

**__**


	5. Choosing a Name

"Crowley, how was your rest? Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Oh, Crowley…" Aziraphale pulled him in for a hug. "I'm here for you, always. Anything you need."

"Thanks, angel. It's...getting dark. Too late to do anything, sorry."

"Don't be, you needed the rest." 

"I guess. Are you off to bed?"

"Not quite yet. I'll stay up for a little while. We...could talk?"

"Always, angel."

"Um, I was thinking, Crowley…" Aziraphale continued as they sat on the ground, "If it's not...not...too soon...I was wondering if you might...teach me another word or two? In parseltongue?" Crowley shrugged.

"Sure. Anything specific?"

"Um...No, not really."

"Alright then. How are you is...uh...ou basha. Ou being you and basha being how."

"So...ou basha?"

Yep. Or, if you like, and as dad does a lot, just say basha. If you've just said hello to me, then when you say basha I know you're asking about me. So just basha."

"Basha."

"Except…"

"Hissy and snakey," Aziraphale finished for him. So…. **_How are you?_ ** "

"Yeah, good job. You've been practicing. And the usual response is fine, or good. So, fai, usually."

**_"Fine."_ **

"Exactly. So it goes like this." He cleared his throat.

**_"How are you?"_ **

**_"...Fine."_ ** Crowley smiled.

"Good job, angel." A light tapping on the wall disrupted them, and they looked up to see a human Mr. Crowley carrying two plates.

**_"Dinner."_ **

"...That looks good," Aziraphale said. And it did. It was pasta, with simple sauce. Aziraphale remembered making something similar the day they'd found out about...Bea.

"Thank you," he said, taking the plate. Mr. Crowley nodded.

**_"Thanks, dad,"_ ** Crowley said. He paused, thinking about Aziraphale, how he wanted to learn parseltongue. The book he'd wanted to write so maybe others could learn.

**_"...Can we go out and get some parchment?"_ ** His father raised his eyebrows.

**_"Anytime you like. I'll need to come with you."_ **

**_"Course."_ **

**_"...We could all go. Make a fun shopping trip out of it. You two need to get out of the house, to see the sunlight again."_ **

**_"We see the sunlight every day, but I get your point."_ ** "Angel?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to come along on a shopping trip? I'd like to pick up some parchment."

"Now?"

"No, of course not. Whenever. Tomorrow or the next day, maybe."

"...Tomorrow, then?"

"Sure."  **_"Tomorrow?"_ **

**_"Tomorrow. I have a small request. I'll need to stop at the bank. Gringott's, your mother called it. To do that, I'll need a name. Since I'll be wearing this name for a long time, I'd like to choose a good one."_ **

**_"...Kay?"_ **

**_"Your mother has a book of names for this purpose. All I need is someone to read them so I know what they sound like."_ **

**_"...Sure, we can do, I think Aziraphale might like that. After dinner?"_ **

**_"Of course."_ **

"So, dad says we need to go to the bank tomorrow."

"Alright."

"Thing is, the people at the bank need a name." Aziraphale blinked and said nothing.

"...Alright, angel?"

"I-I-yes. Sorry, yes the-the people at-at the bank need a name." Crowley raised his eyebrows.

"...So dad wants us to read some names from a book he has to help him choose."

"Oh." Aziraphale brightened. "Oh, well that sounds like good fun!" 

"I knew you'd like it. So we'll do that after dinner?"

"Of course!"

"...Sure you're alright, angel?"

"Yes, Crowley, I'm fine." Crowley didn't push. If he didn't want to talk about it, they wouldn't.

***

"Abayomi," Crowley began.

**_"No. Absolutely not."_ **

"Abby?" Aziraphale said.

**_"No."_ **

"Abir."

**_"No."_ **

"Adair."

**_"No."_ **

"Adal."

**_"No."_ **

On and on and on and on and on it went, though in hindsight it didn't continue for  _ nearly  _ as long as it could have, until finally-

"Astrid."

**_"...Say that one again."_ **

"Again, angel."

"Astrid."

**_"You say it, Crowley."_ **

"Astrid."

**_"...Astrid. Astrid. Assstrid...I like it."_ **

**_"Going with that one?"_ **

**_"...Perhaps. Let's read a few more."_ **

Crowley's father did eventually decide on Astrid, after the next thirty proved to be unsatisfactory.

"Astrid it is," Crowley said with finality. Aziraphale smiled.

**_"Hello, Astrid,"_ ** he said. Astrid Crowley nodded.

**_"...I like it."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the parseltongue lesson!
> 
> Also a reminder that I can be reached @tmoupdateblog on tumblr if ever you have questions or comments of any kind! I don't *post* often, but I do receive messages and asks.


	6. Gringott's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I think I might just be back on the Magical Frienship Train, choo choo! General update on the fic, I have found a way to include Adam and Eve, in what I hope will be a meaningful way. I will also, much, much later in the fic (post-year 7) be including Chamuel, an archangel who I have my own headcanons for in the Good Omens universe. I am currently working on a fic that explains it. I would also like to know if anyone knows any apps that are good for visualizing major plot points on a timeline? This is going to be a super long story...Maybe if I could move them around, "no actually I want this a bit later, maybe year 5..." that sort of thing? Toodloo, and stay safe, my magical friends! ...Do you see what I did there. You see, because... *sighs*

The next day, all three of them were standing at Gringott's, waiting in line. Aziraphale looked immensely uncomfortable, anxiously holding Crowley's hand.

"Alright, angel?" Crowley whispered. Aziraphale nodded curtly, not meeting his eyes. Mr. Crowley licked his lips, then gently put a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder. Aziraphale leaned into it, and Crowley decided to keep the observation that he was more comfortable around his father when he was human to himself. Finally they arrived at the counter, and the goblin leaned over to appraise the trio.

"Master Fell." Aziraphale flinched, but he looked up and offered a timid smile.

"H-hello, sir." The goblin moved on.

"Mr. Crowley. ...And the elusive Mr. Crowley, senior."

"We'd like to make a withdrawal," Crowley said.

"Is there any reason your father could not have told me that himself?"

"He's...mute." The goblin nodded.

"Your father's name?"

"Astrid Crowley."

"Do you have your key?" Mr. Crowley produced the key from his pocket.

"Excellent. If you'll follow my associate. ...Always a pleasure to see you, Master Fell." Aziraphale nodded anxiously.

"Thank you, sir." The goblin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

They followed the second goblin through to the tunnels and into the cart, and Aziraphale clung to Astrid like his life depended on it. Mere seconds after the cart had sped away into the dark abyss, he started to cry.

"Angel?"

"Sorry...heights…" Astrid looked concerned, and Crowley pointed down over the side of the cart for his benefit. Astrid nodded, and squeezed Aziraphale tighter.

"So that's why you never joined the quidditch team," Crowley joked, with no bite to it. Aziraphale nodded.

"If I'd'a known, I would've cancelled quidditch for the whole year. Still might. No more quidditch while my angel is at school." Aziraphale seemed entirely unaffected by the attempt at a distraction.

"Fine if I'm...on the ground…" he said, "It's...when I'm...the one that's...not."

When they arrived, both Crowleys helped Aziraphale climb out.

"I don't feel so well…" he murmured, and the goblin produced a bag and handed it to him.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Master Fell, it's a common occurrence."

"...Thank you, sir." This goblin tittered, seemingly unsure how to respond, then decided to busy himself opening the vault door.

"...This is about your piece of shit parents, isn't it?" 

"...I'd rather not talk about it right now, Crowley."

***

Crowley had a blast at Flourish and Blott's, buying all sorts of parchment and quills. Aziraphale helped him pick out the best kind.

"This kind bleeds a bit. This kind is very sturdy, but the writing tends to smudge." He seemed happier, but the clouds had not entirely lifted. It wasn't until later that night when they were in bed together that Aziraphale opened up.

"My parents…"

"Knew it."

"Crowley!"

"Sorry, sorry. Continue."

"My parents...they don't...they said...well...do you...do you remember yesterday, when you said the people at the bank need a name?"

"Yeah?"

"I hadn't realized until then...I-I didn't...I didn't...consider...goblins...to be people."

"...Ouch."

"I never considered them people, because...my parents said they were just...just...miserable little creatures meant to serve wizards, and...and I knew that wasn't true, but I...I still didn't...see them as...as...people. And I didn't realize until you said."

"...S'alright, Aziraphale. Figures your parents' teachings would have an impact."

"It's not alright, Crowley. I didn't even consider them to be people! I was  _ awful  _ to them…"

"Look, angel. You made mistakes. And with  _ your  _ parents, who could blame you? What matters is that now that you've spotted the mistakes inside yourself, you work to be better. You were treating those goblins at the bank like they were people."

"I...I wanted to be different…"

"Exactly. My little angel." Somewhere around there, Crowley suddenly remembered that his father wanted to know if he'd be going back this year.

"By the way, angel, I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Always, Crowley."

"Well, see...Mum...well, she set things up so that...if I decided...things were too rough...I could take a year off school. I was just wondering...if you thought I should. I mean, if I do, I'll be away from you for a whole year, but going back to school and being bullied...I don't think I can."

"You're being  _ bullied _ ?!" Aziraphale looked stricken. 

"Wh-uh…"

"When? By who? Who's bullying you, Crowley, I'll hex them as soon as we get back!"

"No, Aziraphale, really, it'll only make it worse-"

"So then I'll hex them harder! Professor Flitwick says I could probably outmatch a seventh year, so I could hex anybody! Somebody in our year wouldn't know what hit them!"

"Really, Aziraphale, it's fine-"

"It's not fine! It is never going to be fine! I'll have every student at school quaking when I walk by just to keep you safe, you know I would!"

"I know you would, Aziraphale, it-it's not even that bad…"

"It's bad enough that you are genuinely considering taking a year off school!"

"Not solely because of the bullying! I just think...even a little bit of teasing would be too much now, and you know it gets worse if you cry."

"Nobody will tease you! At all!"

"Angel, angel, that's not the point right now, okay?" Aziraphale fell silent, but he looked incredibly upset.

"Look, I just...if I take a year off school, I won't be around you, and...you're kind of the only thing keeping me sane right now. So...I want to stay away from the other kids, but I also want to be around you. I don't know which one I want more. I..kind of want to be near dad, as well. Need a little help deciding."

"Nobody will bully you, Crowley, promise." 

"Okay, if you  _ didn't  _ hex everybody who looked at me wrong, which would be the better option?"

"Really, Crowley, if you'd just let me give them a stern talking-to-"

"No. I don't want you getting involved."

"But Crowley-"

"No, okay?" Aziraphale sighed, looking away.

"...You see, angel? This is why I didn't want you to know."

"Why? Because I'd make it stop?"

"Look, if you get involved, what're they gonna say about me? I can't defend myself-"

"Letting this happen is not  _ weakness _ , Crowley! It's stupidity!"

"You can't make it stop, Aziraphale!"

"I can, and I will!"

"Aziraphale," Crowley cut across, "Listen to me, and listen to me very carefully, alright? It's...it's less, than it was before. I'm not saying it isn't shit, because it is, but it's less shit. Alright? The jokes are getting tired, they're not getting a rise out of me anymore, they've got nothing new and they're getting bored. So I figure, if I can just lie low for a little longer. Just...just roll my eyes and scoff a few more months...they'll stop. It'll go away entirely. I just...It's so close to being over, and I just don't want to do anything to upset that, alright?"

Aziraphale started to cry.

"It's not  _ fair _ , Crowley!" 

"I know it's not fair, Aziraphale, but sometimes you gotta grin and bear it for things to get better." Meanwhile Astrid, content to let them have their argument, was not content to hear Aziraphale cry, so he came in and wrapped himself around Aziraphale.

"...You know, Aziraphale, this isn't like you. You hate dueling, remember? You're not the kind of person to hex people."

"Leave me  _ alone _ , Crowley!"

"Alright, alright. I'll let it drop, okay? Besides, I've decided to go back."

"How come?"

"Because you need me as much as I need you. Somebody's gotta keep you restrained. A powerful wizard like you, angry and upset and just a little sensitive? You'd blow up the whole school, and I would hate to have to explain to Professor Dumbledore why I was the only one still alive."

"That's not funny, Crowley."

"Come on, it was a little funny."

"It was not."

"Alright, alright. Give dad a nice big hug and relax, okay?" Aziraphale sniffed and pressed his cheek into one of Astrid's coils.

**_"Shhhhh…"_ ** Aziraphale kept crying, and it wouldn't be until later that Aziraphale realized maybe Crowley had a point.


	7. First Day

Crowley sat up that night, looking around. To Aziraphale, to his father, out into the hallway.

**_"Crowley?"_ **

**_"Aziraphale is here in bed."_ **

**_"...Yes."_ **

**_"Earlier, you hugged him."_ **

**_"Yes."_ ** Crowley started to cry.

**_"Crowley, did you have a bad dream? It wasn't real…"_ **

**_"You were hugging him! He was hugging you!"_ ** Astrid was silent, but he finally put the pieces together.

**_"I'll forgive you when he feels safe enough to cuddle with you again,"_ ** Astrid quoted, and Crowley sniffed.

**_"I hate him!"_ **

**_"Crowley, I know you're grieving, but I won't allow you to speak that way about Aziraphale, especially when I know you don't mean it."_ **

**_"No, I...I meant...I can't...I'm not ready to forgive you! How is it that_ ** **_he's_ ** **_the one who got attacked, and he's forgiven you faster than I have?"_ **

**_"Anger is not a competition, Crowley. And you don't have to forgive me because Aziraphale has."_ ** Crowley woke Aziraphale up then, to hug him and cuddle him close.

***

"Oh…" They were on the train back to Hogwarts.

"What is it, Aziraphale?"

"Muggles…I should have thought of this earlier…"

"...Lovely people. Getting around without magic, very creative. What about them?"

"Well...I was reading…"

"And?"

"When they lose their hearing...they can't get it back, because they don't have magic."

"...Sounds awful…?" Crowley still had no idea where Aziraphale was going with this train of thought.

"Well, because of it...they invented a whole language just in hand movements. They call it sign language, and it helps people who can't hear communicate. I thought...your dad…"

"...Could do," Crowley said, finally getting the picture, "We'll have to look it up more. But other people won't know…"

"But he could sign to one of us and we could translate."

"...Worth looking into," Crowley finally said.

***

"Third years! Third years this way!"

"We're not going to the boats?" Crowley clung to Aziraphale to make sure they didn't get separated as they walked. They finally arrived at a set of carriages. They sat inside, waiting, and Aziraphale yelped as the carriage started moving all on its own.

"Bloody hell!" Crowley shouted, and Aziraphale nodded knowingly.

"It must be thestrals," he said.

"Thestrals?"

"They're a kind of creature that can only be seen by people who have watched someone die." Crowley stared at Aziraphale in horror.

"Can...can you…?"

"No, I've only read about them."

"...Why can't I see them? With mom…"

"You had to physically watch someone die with your own eyes. Knowing someone who's died isn't enough." Crowley nodded.

"Hagrid takes care of them, doesn't he? I wonder who he saw die."

"It would be rude to ask."

"Well,  _ obviously _ ," Crowley snapped, "I was just wondering."

***

"We have new classes this year, Crowley. And we can choose extra subjects! I'm going to take an extra charms class!"

"Fantastic."

"What's wrong, Crowley?"

"Nothing, angel."

"Are those kids being mean to you? I'll hex them!"

"No, angel, it's not the kids. I'm just...the stress from school. Wish dad was here."

"I know. Maybe we should ask if we could both leave a block free, then we could go play a game or something."

"...Maybe."

"We don't have to be meeting here right now, if you'd like to go back to your dorm and sleep…?"

"No, no no, I want to be near you."

"Well...alright." Crowley sighed.

"...Do you regret coming back?" Aziraphale asked, and Crowley shook his head.

"No. Just...gonna take time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update on something from Magical Friendship 2. This is the redacted part of Bea's letter to Uriel:
> 
> I am dying. I have perhaps a month or two left. I already know I will be gone by the time Anthony finishes the school year. I have no doubt he will be absolutely devastated when he hears the news, and I can't tell you what an immense relief to me it is to know that Aziraphale will be there with him during the summer. Thank you, so much. I will never forget this.


	8. Divination

"Welcome to divination, children. My name is Professor Trelawney, and I can teach you to look into the beyond!" 

Aziraphale sighed. He'd only been in this class for ten minutes and he was already bored silly. He'd always wanted to learn more, but divination...tea leaves...Everything else was grounded in fact, had been tried and tested. Divination was...not an exact science. Besides, why would Aziraphale want to predict the future, anyways?

"Now, drink your tea, quickly. Then pass your cup to your partner and read their fortune. Use your textbook to help you." Angelina Richards, sitting at the same table as him, offered a sympathetic smile as they finished their tea and switched cups.

"Well, Aziraphale? What's in my fortune?"

"Well…" Aziraphale looked through his list of symbols, comparing them to what he saw in Angelina's cup. Bored silly as he was, he was still going to give his best effort.

"Well...That looks like a cloud. Which means...caution. And you know, that looks like a little dog…"

Professor Trelawney gasped then, rounding on Aziraphale.

"What did you say, boy?"

"I said...it looks...like a dog…"

"Cup, cup, give me the cup!" Aziraphale glanced at Angelina, then handed over the cup, visibly nervous. Professor Trelawney glanced inside, then shouted and threw down the cup.

"My dear…" She said, tearfully taking Angelina's hands, "You have...the Grim." She became distraught then, sitting in her chair by the fireplace and wiping her eyes.

"The grim," Aziraphale read, "The worst of all omens, the sign of the grim means death…No, I don't think you're going to die anytime soon, Angelina," he added, when Angelina began to look upset. She smiled at him thinly, but the entire class was miserable from then on, something Crowley picked up on the moment he met Aziraphale for transfiguration.

"Aziraphale? What happened, what's wrong? What's got everyone so upset?" Aziraphale, well aware that Angelina was in earshot, shrugged.

"Nothing, Crowley, nothing. We just...had a bad first class, that's all."

"...Well now I'm going to spend all night worried about my divination class tomorrow."

"It'll be fine, Crowley,"

"Right," Crowley replied, clearly not believing him for a second, but then McGonagall called the class to order and nothing more was said on the subject.

For about ten minutes.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" McGonagall burst out, frustrated with the class's miserable demeanour, "Who's death did the old bat predict  _ this year _ ?" Crowley's eyes went wide and he pulled Aziraphale's close, as though the ceiling were going to cave on them any moment now. The entirety of the Hufflepuff class glanced around, and Angelina raised her hand.

"Well," McGonagall said with a sigh, "I can tell you that she predicts somebody's death every year, and in the thirty-odd years I've been teaching at this school nobody has died yet, so I seriously doubt you will be the first. If you do die, I assure you you will not be penalized for missing class. Talk to Seth Summers. He's a fourth year slytherin, and last year's predicted death. Could do you some good. You are  _ not  _ going to die, Angelina, believe me."

"Somebody predicted Angelina's  _ death  _ in divination?!" Crowley hissed, despite McGonagall starting class again.

"I'm afraid I did," Aziraphale whispered back quietly. "But...she's not going to die. McGonagall said so."

***

Crowley's Divination class was exactly the same. This time, it was Crowley himself who was cursed with "the grim". Considering this was shortly after his mother's death, Crowley could be excused for storming out of class.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape?"

"Mr. Crowley, you are interrupting a class now."

"I know, sorry, sorry. Er, Trelawney needs Aziraphale, for his...divination skills. Really shone yesterday, she wants him to demonstrate teacup reading." Snape stared at him with a look that obviously called his bluff, and then sighed.

"Mr. Fell, two rolls of parchment on the use of luck potions by tomorrow, now go."

"Yes, sir, sorry sir." Aziraphale collected his things and left, neither of them speaking until they were far enough away.

"Come on. Courtyard."

"So you  _ didn't  _ get told to fetch me by Trelawney. I don't appreciate being abducted from class, Crowley."

"Look, I needed to talk, alright?"

"About…?"

"She...that stupid teacher, she...she predicted my death. Grim or whatever."

"Crowley, you aren't going to die, you know that."

"I know, I know, it just feels like...kinda wish somebody had been there to tell me about mum, you know?" Aziraphale sighed, pulled Crowley's head down to his shoulder so nobody would see his face and muttering a soundproofing spell.

"It's not nice, what she does. Maybe she believes it, but...I think sometimes things should be kept secret. Unless you're sure. Otherwise you're just scaring people for no reason."

"I'm never going to that stupid class ever again!" Aziraphale sighed, realizing that now was not the best time to try and talk Crowley out of his decision.

"...Excellent," he said instead, "Going to skip class to lead a life of crime with me?" Crowley laughed wetly, remembering when he'd said that to Aziraphale.

"I'd love leading a life of crime with you," he replied, "We'd get into some good trouble."

"Me blowing up the school and you gluing fake galleons to the rubble." Crowley laughed again, wrapping his arms around him.

"...Thank you, Aziraphale. You've been...I never thanked you, for being there, even when...when I was upset...I said awful things to you, and...you didn't deserve that."

"You were grieving, Crowley. You  _ are  _ grieving. I understand. I've had all of those thoughts myself, as well." Crowley pulled back.

"...You have?"

"Of course, Crowley. Christmas with you felt like the first time I've ever had a genuine Christmas. I miss her, too, Crowley, even if it's not as much as you."

"...It is as much as me. Or maybe it's not, but...don't think for a second I didn't notice you crawling out of bed every night. Dad going to check on you out in the living room all the time. You falling asleep in the middle of the day. When mum died...it hurt you too. I know it did. And...and...that's not...I can't...even if it is less than me, it can't...there's no denying you're upset. It's okay to be upset, Aziraphale, even if there's somebody more upset than you. Dad said...we're different people, and we just process things different. Point is...you're hurting, too. No, actually, the point is...let me do your potions homework."

"...I'm sorry?"

"The homework Snape gave when I pulled you out of class. Let me do it for you. Or at least...you tell me what you want me to write, and I'll write it for you. Or no, that wouldn't work. I'll do all the research, and you write the homework." Aziraphale smiled.

"I can do my own homework, Crowley, but thank you. I never want you to feel like you can't pull me out of class to talk. I'm not angry or anything." Crowley sighed.

"...I miss her, angel."

"I know. I miss her too."

Aziraphale went back to his dorm and cried, later, where Crowley couldn't see. Talking about Bea...hurt.


	9. Adam and Eve

"Hey, Crowley!"

"Angelina? What's up?" Why was she talking to him? Angelina hated him, after that incident with the firecracker back in first year. She'd said she forgave him, but she also didn't talk to him. She was probably only saying she forgave him out of consideration for the fact that her crush had basically pulled Crowley's ear until he apologized.

"I heard you bailed on divination yesterday because Trelawney said you were gonna die. She did the same thing to me, so I just wanted to say that it actually really helped me to talk to Seth. Seth Summers, the fourth year, the one that McGonagall mentioned? So, look. Go talk to him. He also told me that there are these two older kids, Adam Omenma and Eve Afolayan. They're seventh years. Adam and Eve are both Ravenclaws, and they became friends and then later started dating because Trelawney said they were both cursed to die. They're super down to earth, so if you wanna talk to them, you can. Adam also has rich parents, so maybe Aziraphale might find someone to talk to. He's...a bit of a loner." Crowley shrugged. And then decided that maybe Angelina deserved a little bit more than that.

"I...yeah. I'll go talk to them. Thanks, Angelina, it's...kinda been bugging me."

"No problem. I hate you, but...this is serious stuff. What I'm feeling now...I don't want you to go through that alone over some petty grudge."

"Thanks, Angelina. Really."

"Yeah, no problem."

***

"Excuse me? Are you...Eve?"

"Yes, that's me. You are…?"

"Crowley. Just...just Crowley. I'm...I'm a third year." Eve made an "ahhh" sound.

"Trelawney and her infamous 'grim'?"

"Trelawney and her infamous grim," Crowley replied.

"Come on, I'll go get Adam and we can talk outside in the courtyard." Crowley nodded, and Eve led him back to one of the towers, letting him wait at the bottom while she ascended. She came back down with a well-built boy about her age, dark-skinned, same as her, and stern-looking.

"Crowley," Adam introduced himself, "My name is Adam, I'm so sorry about Trelawney." His eyes were sincere, and Crowley was thankful that he was nice under the stern gaze.

"Yeah...I mean, it doesn't really bother  _ me _ , you know, just...mum died last summer, so having this lady predict my death is...kinda throwing me off." Eve gestured for them to walk and began leading them toward the courtyard as Adam sighed.

"I am so sorry for your loss, Crowley. Were you close with her?"

"Yeah. Mum was always really stern, no-nonsense, but...I loved her. And she loved me."

"Are you...do you still have a dad?" Eve asked, and she sighed when Crowley nodded.

"That's good, at least. So, what's going through your mind about your mum, with all of this Trelawney business?" Crowley shrugged.

"Mostly that it would've been nice if somebody coulda warned me about mum dying. I woulda liked to know, I think. I...I get why she didn't tell me, but...it's been hard. I would've liked more time to say goodbye."

"Your mother...knew she was dying?"

"Dad said she had some incurable illness. She went to get it treated, but they couldn't do anything. She stayed at home, kept it from me. Dad says they knew basically at the start of second year, but she wanted me to be happy and not spend my school year and stuff upset about her, so she kept quiet, and when I got off the train last summer...was dad that picked me up." Crowley shuffled and shrugged, keeping his eyes down.

"And you come back to school and spend your first divination class being told you're marked for death," Adam added with a sigh, and Crowley waved his hand in an 'exactly' motion.

"Look, if it's any comfort, the timing of your mum and this grim business was just bad luck," Eve said, "Means nothing. And you're not going to die. We're all going to die eventually, of course, and maybe some of us will go before our time, but it's certainly not in the foreseeable future. Trelawney's 'you're going to die' is a little bit like 'it's going to rain'. Well, yes, it  _ is  _ going to rain, but when it does rain a week later it won't be because you predicted it, it'll be because it was always going to rain, and the fact that it rained isn't proof of your wonderful ability to predict the future. So, I'd say if she predicted someone's death and that person died like within a month later, maybe she foresaw it. Us? Angelina, from your year? All the other kids who've had their deaths predicted? They're all going to die, but they haven't died yet and they won't die for a long time, and when they do die it won't be because they were cursed or marked or whatever. It'll be because sometimes people die, and that's okay." Crowley listened, hanging on to every word.

"...You've really thought about this, haven't you?" he asked.

"We had to, Trelawney said we were going to die."

"I still think about it sometimes," Adam added, "Sometimes I think 'what if today's the day?' and I spend my whole day worrying there's going to be some accident. When my grandmother died, I thought 'what if the warning wasn't for me, but for her?' It takes effort, conscious effort, but you need to always remember that people dying is natural and normal and another part of life. After a certain time, a person dying isn't something to prove that Trelawney was right, it's an undeniable fact, and Trelawney happened to say it before it happened."

"She's an old coot, is what we're saying," Eve said, and Crowley smiled, a bit.

"...I'll think about it, alright?" Crowley said, and they nodded.

"See you around, Crowley," Eve said, "One of us is usually in the library, so come talk anytime."

"Oh, Crowley?"

"Yeah?" 

"You're friends with Aziraphale, right? Can you give this to him? My new one came in." Adam pulled a wand from his robes. Nine inches, light brown, delicately patterned. 

"That's Aziraphale's."

"Yes. He lent it to me a couple of weeks ago, mine broke when I sat on it. Ollvander's been sending me wands to try, and I finally found another one, so I don't need his anymore. Tell Aziraphale it was really, really kind of him to loan his wand, and I won't forget it."

"Sure."

"Thank you. I hope I don't see you again, but...let's be honest, one talk isn't going to clear away the cloud of death."

"No, but...the dark cloud seems a little lighter now. Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, according to *cough* babynames.com or some variant, Omenma, Adam's last name, is a Nigerian name that means "one who is good to others". Afolayan, Eve's last name, is a West African (Yoruban) name that means "one who walks with confidence", or "one who walks like a wealthy person."


	10. Emotional Upset

"Here, angel."

"Oh, my wand! You got it back from Adam?"

"Yep."

"Why did Adam give it to you?"

"We were talking. Angelina suggested I talk to him and Eve about the whole grim thing."

"Oh, did it help?"

"It did, yeah. By the way, have you talked to Adam?"

"Yes, he's a lovely man. His father's very important, so he understands what it's like. We're not...friends, I don't suppose, but he understands."

"Well, good." Aziraphale smiled, but then looked away, distracted.

"Alright?"

"Well, yes. I just can't help but feel that if I hadn't said anything, Angelina wouldn't be so upset right now."

"Oh, Trelawney was definitely waiting to spring that on someone. If it wasn't you and Angelina, it would've been someone else. Nothing to be upset about."

Aziraphale smiled, but it fell right off his face and he didn't say anything.

“I’m serious, angel. Don’t worry. You said yourself, Angelina’s not gonna die. McGonagall said so.”

“Yes...yes, you’re right. I just can’t help but feel guilty. If I hadn’t said anything…”

“You had no idea Trelawney was going to sentence Angelina to  _ death _ just because you saw a dog in her cup. It’s not your fault, angel.” Aziraphale sighed.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. It’s...well, it’s an awful thing for her to do, making people worry like that. I mean, I know she must think she’s certain, but every year, and with nobody ever dying...you don’t think she’d stop?”

“She’s barking mad, Aziraphale. I wouldn’t expect  _ any kind of thinking _ from her.” Aziraphale cracked a small smile.

“I suppose you’re right.”

***

Aziraphale kept his mouth largely closed in divination from then on, but Trelawney had no more “grim” surprises up her sleeves. They moved from tea leaves to crystal balls, to other things. Despite Aziraphale’s attempt to keep quiet in divination, Trelawney became convinced that Aziraphale had “the gift”, and attempted on multiple occasions to persuade him to do additional classes to nurture it. Aziraphale refused as politely as he could, and did not tell Professor Trelawney that he had no wish to become the sort of person who casually predicted death with no thought to the emotional consequences of their words. Frankly, he rather felt he deserved an award for his restraint, as he had become quite angry with Professor Trelawney for that stunt. It had caused Crowley to ruminate on his mother’s passing, and Angelina had confessed to having nightmares about her impending death. Adam told him that he’d had quite a few other students come to talk to him about their predicted deaths, but he wasn’t upset.

“It’s always busier when divination classes start. It’s the same for everyone at school who’s had their deaths predicted. People like the comfort of talking to someone who’s still alive.”

Speaking of Adam, he and Aziraphale also talked from time to time. They weren’t friends, as their opinions on their parents differed quite remarkably.

“I’m going to leave home as soon as I finish school,” Adam said.

“But why? Do you not like your parents?”

“My parents treat me like their little toy to show off to the media. They want me to apply for a position in the Ministry, but I just want to lead a quiet life. I want to marry Eve someday, maybe be an artist. I want to be away from all the attention. I don’t want my life to be predicted and set out for me.”

“Well, I understand, but our parents want what’s best for us…”

“No, Aziraphale. Our parents want what’s best for their reputation. Parents are supposed to support their children no matter what, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“Just you watch. My parents’ll never talk about me again the moment I move out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, they’ll love you no matter what you choose to do.”

“No they won’t. And you? What do you want?”

“Well...I...well…” Adam waited, with an “you already know the point I’m trying to make” face.

“I want to own a bookshop, but...there’s no money in that…”

“Life isn’t all about making money. Own a bookshop.”

“It’s not that simple…”

“It really is, Aziraphale. When you’re ready to see it, you will. I’ll send you a letter in a few years’ time. We’ll see whether or not my parents support my decision to become an artist.”

***

"Aziraphale, my dear…" Aziraphale sighed. Not again. He didn't plan on taking divination lessons, couldn't she take a hint?

"Yes, professor Trelawney?"

"I have been looking into your future, as of late…Purely to see if you would have a change of heart regarding your gift, you understand. I still see you asking me for assistance, so I'm not going to pester you anymore, but there is something else..."

"Yes?"  _ If she tells me I'm going to die I'm complaining to professor Sprout. _

"My dear, I have foreseen a great tragedy in your future."

"I'm  _ not  _ going to die, professor," Aziraphale responded, his tone sharp. He'd had quite enough of this woman predicting death.

"No, no, this is not the Grim. In your future, before you ask me for assistance regarding your gift...I see significant emotional upset. I worry for you, my dear, you can be a bit...delicate, emotionally." Aziraphale blinked, taken aback.

" _ Delicate? _ "

"I don't mean it as an insult, dear boy, empathy is a valuable asset among seers, but you must be very careful not to let your emotions overwhelm you."

"...I'm sorry, Professor," he said, his patience gone, "I know you'd like to see me become some world-class seer, but I rely on the concrete. Divination and I simply aren't compatible. Good day, professor."

"Make sure you have a support system, for when tragedy strikes."

"Thank you, I can take care of myself," he snapped, and left, hurrying down the stairs to catch up with Crowley.

"What did she want?"

"She wanted to tell me that she saw  _ emotional upset  _ in my future, and that she was worried about me because I can be a bit  _ delicate, _ " he snapped, "Delicate! Delicate! She called me  _ delicate _ , to my face! The  _ nerve  _ of that woman!"

"...Would you like to talk about what's bothering you?" Crowley asked slowly, "You don't normally lose your temper like this…"

" _ I'm not delicate! _ " Aziraphale shouted, before abruptly bursting into tears.

"Alright, come on, sit here, sit, sit, come on…" He pulled Aziraphale down to sit on the steps, muttering a soundproofing spell so they'd be left alone.

"I'm not delicate," Aziraphale sobbed, and Crowley shushed him.

"No, you're not. You've been through a lot and you're starting to crack. That doesn't mean you're delicate, it means you've been bottling things up. Talk to me, Aziraphale, what's bothering you?" Aziraphale shook his head.

"Can't…"

"Why not, Aziraphale?"

"You...you need me, I can't be weak…"

"It's not weakness to cry, or to tell other people you're upset. We can both be upset at the same time. It's not...it's not a competition to see who's the most upset, Aziraphale. I said I was in your corner, and you said you were in mine. We can both be in eachother's corners at the same time, it's okay." Aziraphale sobbed.

"...I miss Bea!" 

"I know. I know you do. She was a better mother than yours will ever be. She loved you, Aziraphale, you know that right?"

"I loved her, Crowley!"

"I know. And she loved you."

"Why did she have to die? Why couldn't I be happy?" Crowley sighed heavily. He would much rather have had this talk at home, with his father there to hug him until he felt better...But there was always Christmas.

"Sometimes things happen. No rhyme or reason to it, they just do."

"...That stupid Trelawney, I hate her! She keeps saying everyone's gonna die, and it's hard enough dealing with Bea being gone without worrying about which one of my friends is going to be next! I can't do it, Crowley, I just want to get away from it all! I don't want to be thinking about death all the time and she just won't leave me alone! She keeps asking me to do more divination and I won't! I won't be the kind of person that goes around predicting death and making everyone upset!"

"Even if you did study divination, you would never be that kind of person." Aziraphale continued to cry.

"...She called me  _ delicate _ …"

"You're not delicate, angel."

"Everything I've...everything that's happened...and she calls me delicate!"

"But that's just it, angel. She says whatever she wants without thinking about how it's gonna affect people. Probably why nobody takes her seriously." Aziraphale nodded, but he still kept crying.

"I miss Bea…" he said and, and Crowley squeezed him tighter.

"I know. It's okay to miss her." Aziraphale shook his head.

"She was your mother…"

"She was your mother too, for a little while. If you want to call her mum, too, that'd be fine by me." Aziraphale shook his head.

"I miss her." 

"I know."


	11. Bullying

_ Aziraphale, _

_ We'd like you to come home this year for Christmas. We've planned a very special Christmas for you. Please send our condolences along to Crowley. _

_ Love,  _

_ Mom and Dad _

***

"I'm going home this Christmas," Aziraphale said, "They also want to say they're sorry about Bea." Aziraphale sounded downright miserable.

"...Do you not want to go home?" Aziraphale shrugged.

"I don't know. I miss my parents, but...I don't know. I'm just tired, I suppose. I'll feel better when I've had some rest." Crowley nodded.

"Alright. Take care of yourself, angel. I know the bed at your house is much more comfortable than my bed or the couch. Promise me you'll spend the whole break catching up on your sleep. You barely slept over the summer, it's probably getting to you." Aziraphale nodded.

"Get lots of sleep, angel," Crowley said again, and Aziraphale nodded again.

"...Perhaps I should go to bed early tonight."

"Alright. Goodnight, angel."

"Goodnight, Crowley. ...I promise I'll write every day while I'm at home." Crowley smiled.

"I'd like that."

***

"Aziraphale!"

"Crowley?" Aziraphale blinked at the armful of candy.

"Is that for me?"

"Yep."

"But Halloween isn't till tomorrow…"

"Nicked it from the kitchens."

"Oh…"

"It's all for you, angel. Eat all the candy you want!" Aziraphale stared at the candy a bit longer, but then he slowly smiled. He leaned forward and took a fudge cake from the pile.

"...Thank you, Crowley."

"Anytime, angel. Anything I can get for you, just ask."

***

"Look, it's the weirdo. Why're you wearing glasses, freak?"

"You sound more bored than I am, how's that work?" Crowley snapped. 

"I'm not bored, your buddy Aziraphale is having to spend time with you."

"Oh? Have you asked him? Friends, are you?"

"I-"

"Get lost, nobody cares what you think." 

"You...I'll get you for this,  _ Janthony _ ."

"Ooh, I've never heard  _ that  _ one before,  _ not. _ " And the student stormed away, thoroughly shamed.

Aziraphale, hidden behind a wall with his wand drawn, breathed a sigh of relief as the student's steps faded away. He put his wand away and focused on calming his shaky breathing. Crowley was right, it was getting tired. To hear the student talk about Crowley like that...To hear his name used against Crowley...He couldn't face Crowley like this, not while he was a mess. But...Crowley needed him. Needed his presence. This was where they were supposed to meet, he couldn't just bail. But...he couldn't stop shaking, and his breathing...He would need a lie. A lie to explain why he was like this. Think, Aziraphale, think!

"Bastard," Crowley mumbled under his breath. Aziraphale gulped.

He needed a lie, and a good one. But what? He couldn't think, he couldn't control his breathing, to think he'd been about to hex someone, oh, he really would be a  _ miserable  _ auror…

"Aziraphale?" Aziraphale yelped, realizing Crowley was right beside him.

"C-Crowley, I-I-I-I-"

"Heard everything?"

"I-I...I…"

"Heard everything. Told you, it's less shit, I just need to wait for it to go away. Appreciate you not hexing him."

"I...I…I…" Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"...Need to sit down?"

"I...I.." 

"Need to sit down, alright. Come on." Crowley took Aziraphale by the arm, gently leading him out of the dungeons and to the courtyard, depositing him on one of the benches.

"Feeling okay, Aziraphale?" Well, no, he was wondering if this was what it felt like right before you fainted.

"I...I…I feel…" Crowley waited, bless him, but words weren't doing well with him at the moment.

"...sick," he finally trailed off uselessly. Crowley fixed him with a look that said that much was obvious, but didn't comment.

"Alright, lie down in my lap for a bit, alright?" Aziraphale laid down without complaint, trying to focus on his breathing. His eyes closed, and he let himself doze for a bit, listening to the sound of the birds and feeling the breeze tickle the back of his neck with cool air. 

"You're looking  _ really  _ peaky, Aziraphale," Crowley commented at one point. Aziraphale made a sound of acknowledgement, but didn't say anything else.

They stayed there in silence for a few minutes, until Aziraphale's pallor had lessened and he sat up.

"Feel better?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, much. Thank you." Crowley shrugged.

"No problem. Wanna talk about it?"

"I...I'm not sure what happened myself, to be honest. I just...I don't know. I suppose...since I've never, ever been bullied...being that close to it was...Oh, that sounds so stupid…"

"Little bit," Crowley replied, but then he shrugged like it wasn't that big a deal.

"And he...he was saying awful things, and I-I had my wand out you know...I was going to hex him…" Aziraphale trailed off, staring into the distance.

"You wanted to protect me. People…" Crowley took a breath. "People do bad things to protect the people they love, all the time."

"Like my parents do bad things to protect me," Aziraphale said.

"Your parents are just assholes, they're not protecting anyone, but...the general idea is right."

"...You're alright, aren't you, Crowley?"

"You're the one who looks like you're gonna puke."

"Yes, but...that kid…"

"I'm used to it. Besides, the jokes are all getting tired." Aziraphale nodded, but he still had something else he wanted to say.

"...I...you don't...you don't bore me, Crowley...You know that, right?"

"Bloody  _ hell _ , angel, you can't be serious."

"I just...I just…"

"Of course I know that, I'm not some little kid!"

"I know, I just-"

"Angel, look. Bullies can sense weakness, okay? If I thought for a second that any of what they said was true, they'd be all over that, and nothing would make them stop. I don't believe any of what they said."

"I...alright."

"Listen, I will never believe anything they say about you, and you know why?"

"..."

"Because you called my eyes lovely. And then you came over, and you saw my dad, and you let him climb all over you and I saw in your eyes that you didn't once think any less of me. When I say that you are the only person who has been kind to me, I mean it. You...people only treated me like normal when they didn't know about my eyes, or any of that. You...didn't care. You are the kindest person in the whole world. They could show me a picture of you killing a dog and I wouldn't believe it. You never thought any less of me no matter what you saw, and so I will never think less of you no matter what anyone says. Even less so because it's not true in the first place." Aziraphale smiled.

"Alright."

"Alright. How...are you feeling, by the way?"

"Better…"

"Well enough for potions?"

"I...think so."

"Well, we have potions in two minutes. If you wanna skip…"

"No, I'll be fine." Crowley nodded, then gently took his arm, giving him support as he stood. They walked together to potions class, and were just on time.


	12. Potions Class

Crowley felt a lot better about Aziraphale being in potions class after he was safely in his seat. He looked better, but he also looked a few shades paler than Crowley was used to. He noticed professor Snape raised an eyebrow in Aziraphale's direction as he sat down. Professor Snape marched up to his desk, waving his wand and murmuring something to Aziraphale. Aziraphale replied and Snape nodded, flicking his wand as he returned to his desk.

"Today we will be brewing the cure for insomnia potion, a mild sleeping potion. Be warned the fumes may cause acute drowsiness. Fainting is not allowed in this class.”

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Crowley muttered. 

“Something to add, Mr. Crowley?” Professor Snape said icily.

“No, sir.” Of course they were brewing a potion that could make people faint when Aziraphale was a little unsteady on his feet. Of course.

“Very well. Fetch the ingredients, and begin.”

Many students were slapped with a book to keep them awake over the course of the class. Aziraphale was tapped on the side of the face quite frequently, but it was nowhere near the full-force slaps he was giving the other students. As the class went on, the potions got nearer and nearer to completion and the fumes got stronger and stronger, Snape began slapping Aziraphale harder to keep him awake. It wasn’t enough. About twenty minutes before the end of class Aziraphale stood to get more powdered wormwood, took two steps, then groaned, sinking to the ground. People gasped, getting up to check on Aziraphale.

"Stand aside," Snape said menacingly. He swept up to Aziraphale and knelt down, waving his wand and murmuring a spell, and almost immediately Aziraphale's eyes fluttered.

"Professor…?"

"Welcome back to us, Mr. Fell. Collect your things and leave."

"But sir…"

"I will not have you on the ground again in two minutes' time, collect your things and leave."

"...Yes, sir…" Crowley stood.

"Professor, perhaps I should-"

" _Perhaps_ , Mr. Crowley, you should refrain from lying to skip class over every little divinations upset so that your teachers may be more inclined to excuse you when there is a genuine emergency. Sit. Down."

"...Sir…" Crowley sat, cheeks flaming. Aziraphale staggered out of the room, stumbling against the classroom door. 

"...Well? Finish your potions." The class got back to work, and Crowley bolted the moment the bell rang. He ran for the courtyard, and Aziraphale was there, dozing on a bench.

"Aziraphale!" Aziraphale started, sitting up and looking around.

"Crowley!" Crowley started sprinting. "Has it been twenty minutes already?" he asked when Crowley got to his side.

"What happened? How are you feeling? Are you alright?" Crowley demanded, like he hadn't heard.

"Yes, I'm alright. I went to Madam Pomfrey."

"And?"

"Well, I told her about that student, and then potions class...She said it was probably just shock, and that the sleeping potion made it worse. She told me to take it easy for today, said I could skip class if I wanted to…"

"You should."

"Don't be ridiculous, Crowley, I'm alright."

“You passed out in class, Aziraphale, you’re hardly alright.”

“I...I got upset. And then...we made a sleeping potion. I’m...I’m...I’m alright. I’m...It’s over now, so I’ll be alright.”

“Look, just...Just skip transfiguration, at least, alright?”

“Crowley, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll...I won’t need to do anything energetic during charms, so I’ll be alright.”

“Tell McGonagall.”

“I...what?”

“Tell McGonagall you got upset earlier and fainted in potions, and let her decide if she thinks you should stay in class, alright?”

“Sounds fair…” Aziraphale said. He didn’t want to miss class, but if McGonagall decided he should…

“Then it’s settled. Come on, let’s go to transfiguration.”

***

“Mr. Fell, what can I do for you?”

“I...wanted to ask your opinion on something.” He (and by extension professor McGonagall) was acutely aware of Crowley’s eyes on him.

“Go ahead.”

“Well, see...Crowley got...teased by another student earlier, and...and it really upset me...And then right after that, we were brewing the cure for insomnia potion in potions, and I...well...passed out. Madam Pomfrey said it was just shock, stress from the confrontation, and that the potion made it worse, I just...I just...I really don’t want to miss class because of this...I was wondering what you thought I should do.” McGonagall sat back.

“I think, Mr. Fell, that it would be a good idea for you to take the rest of the day off.” Aziraphale sighed.

“One day of classes missed, with a perfectly valid excuse, is not going to impact your marks. I have full confidence that whatever you miss in the next three classes, you will make up with no trouble at all over the weekend. Besides, if your attack was caused by stress, then the added stress of going to class when you are not at your best could exacerbate a problem that would have otherwise healed up in a day. Take the time off, Aziraphale.” Aziraphale sighed.

"Yes, professor…"

"I'll send you the class content and homework after."

"Why not now?"

"Would you work on it in bed and still insist you were resting simply because you were in bed?" McGonagall asked, eyebrows raised. Aziraphale grimaced.

"...Alright. I'll go rest."

"Good. I'll see you on Monday. Rest up, and feel better."

"Thank you, Professor." Crowley flashed a smile as Aziraphale left, but Aziraphale only sighed. Still, he went back to his dorm and rested, as he’d been told. When he woke up, there was a little note on his bedside table with what they had studied in class, along with the homework. Aziraphale finished it quickly. He decided to miss the next class as well, sending a note along to professor Sprout with his apologies. He rested the entire rest of the day, and was feeling much better when he met Crowley the next morning.

“Angel, hey. Feeling better?”

“Yes, much, thank you.”

“Told you the rest would do you some good. Besides, I bet you already finished the homework from yesterday, didn’t you?” Aziraphale smiled.

“I have to keep my grades up.”

“Overachiever,” Crowley said, with no bite to it.

***

"Mr. Fell, a moment, please." Aziraphale stepped up to professor Snape as the other students filed out of the potions classroom.

"...Yes, professor?"

"I understand you went to the hospital wing after your little incident in my class, is that correct? It was stress, I believe?"

"Yes, professor."

"Halloween is coming up, Mr. Fell, and Mr. Crowley would be utterly insufferable if you were to land yourself back in the hospital wing over the holidays, so please, for the sake of all your teachers, keep yourself healthy until Christmas by whatever means necessary."

"I...yes, professor!"

"Don't look at me like that, I'm doing this for myself and my colleagues, all of whom will have to deal with a decrease in Mr. Crowley's already miserable attitude should you fall ill."

"Yes, professor."

"And...you should relax more, Mr. Fell. It could do you some good in your...extracurricular activities."

"I...yes, professor…?"

"...You may go, Mr. Fell."

"Yes, Professor."


	13. Extracurricular Activities

"Ready, angel?"

"I...yes, I suppose so…" Crowley pointed his wand at him, and Aziraphale swallowed. He wasn't afraid anymore, just...resigned. He would be hit with the spell, he would move, just a little...It would be very useful for when he was an auror.

"...Angel?"

"Sorry, yes, I'm ready." Crowley nodded.

"Petrificus totalus." Aziraphale tumbled backwards as always. He fought as always. He barely succeeded in anything more than clenching his fist, as always. And then Professor Snape's words came to mind. 

_ You should relax more, Mr. Fell. It could do you some good in your...extracurricular activities. _

Extracurricular activities? Did he mean this? But that didn't make sense, he'd relaxed a bunch of times before and never been able to do anything. He sighed, trying to relax, and nothing happened. He closed his eyes, trying to pretend he wasn’t frozen in place, pretending he’d just taken a nap on the floor. For a while, nothing happened. But then...suddenly it felt...he couldn’t describe it. It felt like fighting the spell was the wrong way of doing things. Like he should just...lie back and let the spell run its course. But that didn’t make sense...the spell took hours and hours to wear off. But somehow it felt like it wouldn’t take hours if he just relaxed. Like the spell was only working because he was trying to move. So he should stop trying to move and just...move? It was so confusing, but he took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh.

“Alright, angel?” Crowley asked. He blinked once. He took another breath and let it out, trying to just fall asleep. As he stopped resisting the spell, he felt its hold on him loosening. And yet, when he tried to move, it would tighten right up, rendering him motionless again. He relaxed, the spell loosened. He took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, and tried to move his arm while pretending really hard he wasn't bound by a spell that would stop him from doing that. To his - and Crowley’s - complete and utter shock, he was able to move it a good foot away from him before he lost focus and froze up again.

“Angel, that was amazing! Can you do it again?” Aziraphale sighed and tried again, but it didn’t work. He closed his eyes again, and it took another few minutes of careful breathing to relax enough that he was able to move.

“It’s something Snape said,” Aziraphale said when the spell had worn off properly, “He said that I should relax, and that it would help me in my extracurricular activities. So I...tried to relax, and I found that when I was relaxed, or at least, when I wasn’t fighting the spell, I was able to move. It’s really confusing, I don’t quite get it myself. I can move...but only if...if...if I’m not fighting the spell to do it. Like...it’s like...if I pretend the spell doesn’t exist, like it isn’t affecting me...I can move. Does that make sense?”

“...No. I’m pretty sure you can’t overcome a spell’s effects just by closing your eyes and pretending it isn’t there, Aziraphale. But...whatever works, I guess.”

***

“Well, angel...I’ll see you after Christmas.”

“I’ll write every day, if I can.”

“Thanks, angel.”

“Aziraphale!” 

“Bye, Crowley.”

“Bye, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale walked over to his parents, and they immediately folded him into their arms.

“Oh, honey, we’ve missed you so much,” his mother said. Already Aziraphale felt something was off. Normally, when his parents said lovey things like that, it was loud enough that other people could hear them being spoken. This was quiet, murmured in his ear, for him and him alone.

“Mother? Is everything alright?”

“Of course, sweetheart, everything’s fine. We’re going to take you home, and let you have a nice hot bath. Come along, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, mother…”

***

“Home sweet home,” Gabriel said, “So, what do you want to do? Read? Play? Sleep? Did you sleep on the ride home?”

“I...yes, I slept...Is everything alright? You’re acting...strange…” Uriel beamed fondly at him.

“Look at you. Thirteen years old, and already recognizing when the people around you are behaving suspiciously. That will be an invaluable skill when you’re an auror, Aziraphale, sometimes your friends will be cursed into spying on you. Always keep a lookout.”

“So...What’s wrong?” Uriel sat.

“Well, you’re so close to Crowley, and you spent so much time with Miss Bea...when she died, your father and I decided we would be a little nicer next time we saw you.”

“You...knew?”

“Miss Bea sent us a letter beforehand, asking us to let you stay at her place over the summer, but asking us not to tell you why. You saw me burning it that day, but you didn’t know what it was.”

“So...So Miss Bea...told you she was dying...and asked if I could come stay over the summer?”

“She knew Crowley would need you, when he learned. Of course we let you go, it was no trouble to us, but...well, we knew you wouldn’t be entirely unaffected. You’re very soft like that, Aziraphale. It’s...something we’ll have to grind out of you sooner or later, but for now, you’re still so young, it’s acceptable.”

"Oh…"

"Hey, don't worry about it! It's Christmas! Just think, in a couple of weeks you'll have all sorts of presents! What do you want this year, champ? Book? Game? Name it and it's yours!"

"Oh, well...I haven't thought about it yet. Give me a few days?"

"Sure, but make sure to give  _ us  _ some time to get it for you. We aren't miracle workers!"

“Yes, father.”


	14. Letters

_ Crowley, _

_ Letter one of fourteen. I'm back home now. Mum and dad were acting strange, and they told me they knew last year that Bea was ill, and that she had asked if I could stay over the summer to comfort you, and they decided to be extra nice when they saw me again. It's...strange. I'm not used to my parents being so open with affection not in public. I don't know what I think. _

_ Let me know how things are going on your end. _

_ Best, _

_ Aziraphale _

***

Spending time at home was nice. His parents were overly coddly of him. It was nice for a few days, but Aziraphale began to...not get tired of it, per se, but...It made him sad, knowing it was just because he was grieving, and that would end once the ‘acceptable grieving time’ had passed.

***

Christmas was...stressful. For Crowley, Astrid had bought a few small presents and laid them under the tree, and Crowley had promptly burst into tears upon waking up and seeing the whole thing set up.

**_“Have I done something wrong?”_ ** Astrid asked. Crowley shook his head.

**_“Mum,”_ ** he choked, and Astrid nodded, wrapping around his son.

**_“It will never be the same, but I promise Christmas will be happy again someday,”_ ** he said.

***

For Aziraphale, Christmas was the same as it always was...except that halfway through opening presents, memories of his Christmas with Bea overwhelmed him and he too burst into tears.

“Oh, pumpkin, what’s wrong?” his mother cooed, “Do you not like the spellbook?” Because that was a perfectly acceptable reason for him to cry, but the death of his best friend’s mother, apparently, was not.

“No, no, the spellbook is lovely...it’s just…”

“If you don’t like something, just say so,” his father said, “Only poor people have to worry about hurting feelings."

"No, it's not that, I just...Last Christmas with Bea...I just...it makes me sad to think I won't have that again."

"I know. People die, Aziraphale, that's all there is to it. No need to get hung up about the time they could have had. They were going to die and nothing could have stopped it. Therefore, you were never going to get another Christmas."

"It's...still sad…"

"It is what it is. No point getting hung up about it. Especially not today, it's Christmas!"

"I...yes…"

***

_ Crowley, _

_ Letter seven of fourteen. Christmas...was difficult. I was...well, remembering last Christmas made it...well, difficult. I can only imagine it was the same for you. I hope you're doing well. I'm sorry, I'm hardly being articulate, am I? Mother would lose her mind if she saw the awful way I was writing. I suppose I'd best close off this letter now, before I make it worse. _

_ Aziraphale _

***

Crowley went to lie down in his mother's old bedroom. Lying here, in her bed, it almost felt like she would come right through the door and ask what he was doing. The thought made him miserable. He curled up deeper under the blankets and tried not to cry.

Astrid came into the room and settled on top of Crowley.

**_"Do you miss her too?"_ ** Crowley asked.

**_"Every day,"_ ** Astrid replied, flicking his tongue out on Crowley's cheek. Crowley sighed, shifting, putting one hand under the pillow. His hand brushed something, and he gasped and flinched, but held on to the foreign texture and pulled it out. It was a letter, and who knew how long it had been safely tucked under her pillow. It had his name on it.

**_"It's...for me…"_ ** Crowley said, looking at the letter.

**_"You mother must have written it. Would you like to read it in private?"_ **

**_"No, stay. I...think I might need you."_ ** Crowley sat up and opened the letter, and Astrid wrapped around his son's waist, settling with his upper body loosely encircling his neck and his head hanging off one shoulder. Crowley put one hand on one of the coils around his waist, then started to read.

_ Crowley, _

_ I have many things to tell you, but I want to start with telling you how much I love you. I was never one to say it, and I know you knew it, but it seems important to say now.  _

_ You're grieving now, and I know you will likely blame me for not telling you I was dying. I won't apologize. Had this come on when you were older I would have told you and we would have handled it accordingly, but you're not older, you're twelve. That's too young to lose a mother, but all I could do was give you one last year of happiness.  _

_ You've been so happy because of Aziraphale. Please tell him he made the last two years of my life very happy. You've been happier because of him. Of course I never cared either way whether you lived with humans or not, and I know you never cared, but you are undeniably happier. Thank Aziraphale for me. _

Crowley felt tears leaking from his eyes, and he had to put down the letter to cry into his father's coils. Astrid said nothing, just squeezed his son tightly. A few minutes later, Crowley picked up the letter to continue.

_ But I didn't write this letter just to reminisce and wish you well. There are things you need to know, and you need to be prepared. I didn't want to have to tell you these things until you were older, but I have no time left now. _

_ You already know that other children don't like you because of your eyes. I knew you'd learn that early on, and humanity rose to the summons. What you don't know is that it doesn't stop there. Somebody tells somebody, and somebody else decides our family is an abomination that needs to be destroyed, and they act on that decision. People come to our house at night, Crowley, and they come to kill us. Don't be afraid. People have been trying to kill us since before anybody ever saw your eyes. Your father is an expert hunter, and he has never let anyone anywhere near our house, or you. This does mean that bodies start piling up, and they need to be disposed of. Your father takes care of that, too, but sometimes I have had to cut the bodies into pieces so they fit. With me gone, that duty would fall to you. There's a small book on top of my bookshelf that has the necessary curse. It also lists the killing curse, just in case. Learn it, but only use it in one of three scenarios: You, your father, or Aziraphale would die if you didn't. Please know that I hope you never need to kill another human, but at the same time I know humans will disappoint me, as they always have.  _

_ Let Professor Snape know that your potions lessons are all the more important; he is now the only person who can successfully brew the potion from memory. I'm sure he knows that already, but remind him, from me, to get a move on. _

_ Lastly, it's worth mentioning that I lied to you. I thought if your mother was more human, you would have an easier time at school, and it seems to me it has helped in some way. But, it's worth knowing the truth. I do speak parseltongue. I told you, once, but you were very young so you may not remember, that your father was the last of his species and wanted a child so his lineage could continue in some small way. I could not have learned that without knowledge of parseltongue. I was not born with this knowledge. I am an animagus. You will learn what that means sometime this year, but in short, it means that I can transform into a snake at will. With that transformation comes parseltongue. I suspect it's a side effect of the process of becoming an animagus. I suppose I have no real reason to tell you this, but I have no real reason not to, anymore. In the interests of full disclosure. _

_ I want to close this letter by reminding you that I love you. Your birth may have come as a surprise, but I promised myself I would love you with all my heart, and if nothing else, I have done that. _

_ I love you, Crowley. _

_ Mum _

Crowley was crying again, but really, who could blame him? His father hissed soothingly to him and squeezed gently. It wasn't until about an hour later that he was finally able to convey the general gist of the letter to his father.

**_"I was...a surprise?"_ ** he asked a little later.

**_"Your mother and I met while she was in the form of a serpent. My kind had been thought extinct already, and I thought myself the last of my kind, so imagine my surprise when I saw a female of my species. She told me she was human, and I admit I was quite taken with the idea of a human who loved my species so much as to become one of them. You know already that before I met your mother, humans would try to hunt me. Bea promised me a home, where she could hide me away and protect me from hunters. We fell in love the night we met, we made love that very same night. Neither of us had any thoughts that a mating of a human and a serpent could lead to anything...So imagine our surprise when your mother fell violently ill and went to the doctor to be told she had become pregnant. Further imagine our surprise when you looked mostly human. You have been a surprise since before you were even born, and it has been the happiest I have been in a long, long time."_ **

Crowley wanted to speak, but words didn't seem to be able to convey anything, so he nodded, and said nothing.

**_"...I miss her,"_ ** he said at last, a few minutes later.

**_"I know. You will miss her forever, likely."_ **

**_"I don't want to miss her forever."_ ** Astrid paused, trying to understand what Crowley meant.

**_"Missing her does not mean you will never be happy again,"_ ** he said, carefully, **_"You will be happy, you will enjoy life, and there will come a time when you do not dwell on her passing as you do now. All I mean is that when you think of her, you will remember her with fondness and wish she had not been taken from you so early. When you think of her, you will miss her, but you will not always be consumed by grief."_ **

**_"...Promise?"_ **

**_"Promise."_ **

**_"...Are you...consumed by grief, too?"_ **

**_"I am much older than you, Crowley. Her death is affecting me differently than it is you. I am consumed by grief...because you are consumed by grief. I, personally, have overall had more time to process the eventuality of death. I am coming to terms with her death, while you must accept both her death and the fact that people die, and that death is a real thing. ...Grief hits differently, when you are young. I won't say it hurts more, only that the pain is sharper. Your grief is like the cut of a knife, mine is like...the painful throb of a burn. Neither is more or less, they are simply different."_ **

**_"...You loved her, right?"_ **

**_"More than anything."_ **

**_"Okay."_ ** After a lengthy pause he concluded with,  **_"I miss her."_ **

**_"I know."_ **


	15. The Attack

Aziraphale was reading a new spellbook. His mother was doing office work, and his father was doing the dishes, which involved him waving his wand and watching the dishes scrub themselves to make sure they were properly rinsed. Snow was drifting down outside, as was usual for winter. Cold, snow. Aziraphale thought it was very pretty. He had cocoa beside him, because it was the Christmas season and his parents never denied him anything over Christmas. 

An alarm sounded, and several things happened at once.

His mother grabbed her wand. His father cancelled the enchantment and the dishes fell into the water, hitting the bottom of the sink with a loud thunk that echoed in Aziraphale's ears. That was their alarm to let them know there was a trespasser. Why was it going off? It was late evening on a holiday, there should be nobody around!

"Mother? Is that-"

Their living room wall exploded. 

Aziraphale shrieked and turned away from the explosion, putting his arms up to protect his head and then falling to the ground, ears ringing. Adrenaline pumping, he tried to scramble to his feet, losing his balance and staggering to the side.

"Avada kedavra!" 

A flash of green impacted the wall right where he had been and he screamed, flinging his arm out blindly and shouting "DEPULSO!"

His spell, surprisingly, made contact, and Aziraphale heard a grunt as the man was lifted into the air, flying backwards. As a result, both his parents' spells missed their mark.

"Snake-loving brat!" The man shouted, and just as Aziraphale was starting to get his bearings a flash of red struck him, and he felt warm as though sitting in front of a cozy fire.

"Aziraphale, run! We'll find you, go!"

"No!" the man shouted as Aziraphale ran for the stairs that led to their front door. He ducked, shrieking as a flash of green blew apart the banister and struck the wall just above his head. He heard the crack of spells as he ran outside, slamming the door shut behind him as though that would do any good. 

He ran, as fast and as far as his legs would carry him, at first heading for the road but then changing course and heading for the forest off a sudden feeling that the road would be too open. He ran through the woods near their house, crying openly, running faster than he ever had in his life. Branches whipped his face and arms as he nearly ran into trees but he kept going, not stopping for anything, concerned only with putting as much distance between him and the house as possible. He ran and ran, aware of his own gasping, ragged breaths but not aware of the exhaustion that would have prompted them. He ran until he had used up all of his adrenaline, until he had not a single drop of strength left to spare. He staggered to a stop and dropped to his knees in the snow, heaving in great breaths and coughing violently in his exhaustion. He had been running in slippers with socked feet, and though he felt dampness he felt no cold, a product of the spell that had been cast on him. 

In a last-ditch effort to survive, he crawled his way to a large tree and slumped behind it. There were tracks very obviously leading to his current position because of the snow, and Aziraphale felt terrified and helpless but too exhausted to do anything. He waited, panting, but nobody came and eventually Aziraphale blacked out.

***

When Aziraphale woke it was still dark and snow was still falling. The spell was still going strong, and he checked his fingers but they weren't even blue. It was a spell that actually kept you warm instead of just making you feel warm. It must be very advanced, he thought.

His exhaustion had subsided, and he had no idea how long he'd been out for but he knew he had to keep moving. He stood, holding against the tree for support, but then he heard a crunch on the other side of it. Aziraphale froze, but then reacted on instinct.

"DEPULSO!" He shot the spell suddenly, but it was deflected with expert precision, and Aziraphale gasped when he realized the person standing there was his mother.

"Mother!"

"It's me, Aziraphale." Aziraphale wanted to run to her, but it occurred to him that magical people could change their appearance easily enough if they knew how, and Aziraphale stepped back.

"I...I don't believe you," he said, and his mother beamed.

"Good. You're right not to trust me, and you were right to jinx first without knowing who I was. You're going to be a fine auror, Aziraphale, we've taught you well. When you were six years old you went through a phase of saying the word 'hinkypunk' because you thought it sounded funny. You would say hinkypunk and giggle, and keeping you occupied became the easiest thing in the world because all it took was the word hinkypunk." Aziraphale remembered that. His parents had firmly warned him not to say the word hinkypunk around anyone because it was childish of him. Nobody knew about it except his parents.

"...M...mother?"

"Yes, Aziraphale. It's me. It's safe now, the man is gone."

"Did you kill him?"

"No, as much as it would have delighted me. I have a reputation to think about, I can't go about killing people as I please."

"...Wh-where's father?"

"Still at home, speaking with the authorities. I left to come find you. The spell won't last forever, and I wanted to bring you home. The police have some questions for you." Aziraphale nodded, and his mother held out her hand.

"We're going to apparate back. You remember what to do from when Miss Bea apparated with you?"

"Hold tight and don't let go." 

"Yes, good." He held his mother's hand, and she watched him. He squeezed her hand and nodded to show he was ready, and with a loud crack they were back home. Aziraphale staggered and fell. Wizards were everywhere, wands drawn, searching every inch of their property. Three wizards were talking with his father, who, Aziraphale saw with a sigh of relief, was unharmed. His father turned and saw him, and he gasped.

"Aziraphale! My boy, my boy, my darling boy, you big, brave man, are you okay?" His father knelt while he spoke, cupping his chin.

"Yes, father, I…" But his eyes sparkled with tears, and he blinked furiously to try to clear them, sniffling.

"I know, son, I know, it was so scary and you did so well, but it's okay now, mommy and daddy stopped the bad man and he's going to prison for a very long time."

"Is he still here?"

"Yes, son, he is, but he's tied up, they took his wand, and six aurors all have their wands pointed at him. He won't hurt you anymore."

"Mr. Fell?" One of the aurors called, and his father turned to face her, then turned back to him.

"Aziraphale, the officers want to ask you what happened, is that okay? Do you think you're ready?" Aziraphale looked at the woman who had spoken, and then nodded to his father. His father nodded, then hugged him briefly.

"We'll do anything you want after this, alright?" Aziraphale nodded, and the woman motioned for him to follow her.

"This is Charles," she said, gesturing to a young man in his early twenties, "He's going to take you somewhere private and ask you some questions. And then when we're done we'll get those cuts patched up, alright?"

"Cuts?" He didn't...have any cuts, did he? Aziraphale remembered running into a lot of trees, maybe some of them had cut him and couldn't feel it yet.

"They're not serious, don't worry. Come this way, let's go somewhere quiet." The man waved his wand, and a blanket appeared on Aziraphale's shoulders. He wrapped it around himself. He led Aziraphale far away, out of earshot and out of sight of his parents, then said, "Aziraphale, do you remember exactly when this started?"

"I...no, it was evening. It was dark out, that's all I know."

"Dark like starting to get dark, or dark like full night?"

"Full night."

"Alright, good. What do you remember?"

"Our alarm sounded. We have an alarm that warns of intruders."

"Okay?"

"I tried to ask what was happening, but then our wall exploded, and right away he fired a killing curse at me. It...it's an accident I survived…"

"...The man, Aziraphale. You're sure it was a man?"

"Yes, he had a beard. And dark hair."

"Do you remember anything else about him?"

"...Jeans? A plaid shirt, maybe? I...I don't really know, I managed to hit him with depulso, but then my parents sent me out."

"Okay. Tell me more about that. You said he tried to hit you with a killing curse and missed. What happened then?"

"I hit him with depulso, and then mum, or maybe dad, hit me with a spell. It was red, and made me warm all over. They told me to run, that they would find me, so I ran out the front door and into the woods."

"Do you know how long you were running for?"

"No, I...I don't know. I stopped, after a while, and hid behind a tree, and then I passed out. When I woke up, mum was there. I panicked and tried to jinx her, but she blocked it. I...thought maybe she was the intruder, but she told me something only we would know. Then we apparated back."

"Okay. Can you remember anything else?" Aziraphale sat in silence.

"He said...the man said…"snake-loving brat". That...my friend, Crowley...Well, he has eyes that look like snake eyes. I think maybe...he was…" And it clicked.

"He was trying to kill...me…" Aziraphale sat in the snow, and the man was quick to conjure a chair and help him into it.

"It's alright, Aziraphale, you're safe now, nobody will hurt you."

"He was trying to kill me…" Aziraphale seemingly shook himself.

"Oh, and...as I was running for the door...he fired another...killing curse…" Aziraphale let out a breath, eyes focused on the snow falling in front of him.

"...Pretty...This time of year is always so pretty...don't you think?" And then he was crying. The man - Aziraphale had forgotten his name - patted his shoulder.

"Alright. You've been so brave, Aziraphale, thank you so much." The man waved his wand, and to Aziraphale, nothing happened except a strange tingling in his face, but the man smiled.

"Good. Come on, I'll take you back."


	16. Letters, Part 2

He fell into his mother's arms, eyes leaking tears, and she pulled him close. She even went so far as to cry.

"You poor thing...my poor little pumpkin you poor thing...We'll get you some cocoa and tuck you safe into bed, does that sound okay?" 

"Mrs. Fell…" an auror began, as Aziraphale nodded, "Perhaps you and your family should be moved to a secure location, at least for a few days…" There was a long pause.

"Alright."

"Can I take my plush? The one Miss Bea gave me?" Aziraphale asked, looking up.

"Of course, pumpkin. I'll take you inside so you can go get it."

His mother walked with him inside, and he got the plush of Astrid. He held it tight while his mother packed a small bag for them all, then tighter to avoid it getting wet with snow.

"Ready?" The auror asked. Gabriel held the auror's hand, then took Uriel's hand, and Uriel to his hand.

"Hang on tight," the auror said, and they were off.

They apparated a few times, finally coming to a stop somewhere. Aziraphale didn't know where they were, and he suspected that was so nobody in the family could tell the potential criminal where they were.

"There we are, Aziraphale. We'll stay here for a few days, and when we go back, it'll look like nothing ever happened." The auror who'd brought them nodded, then disapparated. Aziraphale turned to his mother.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Aziraphale."

"I...I'm sorry I jinxed you…"

"No. Don't apologize, you did exactly right. I was so proud of how you acted. You jinxed first, you were suspicious of me...all of these will make you an excellent auror when you grow up. Be suspicious of everyone, always. In fact, I think a reward is in order for how you acted."

"A reward?" his father echoed, eyebrows raised, "You must have done really well. Alright, reward it is!"

***

That night, Aziraphale snuggled his plush tight, and he pretended Astrid really was there, snuggling him and scaring away any other intruders. He cried. He wished Astrid and Crowley were here…

His parents had treated him to cocoa and games and such, but he wished they could have held him. Held him tight like Astrid and Crowley would have, and assured him that everything was alright.

Only a week more, he told himself, then he'd be back at Hogwarts with Crowley and he wouldn't have to worry anymore.

***

A few days later they were allowed back home, and Aziraphale sighed. The house had been completely repaired, like nothing ever happened. He saw four letters sitting on their front step, all from Crowley. He cried. His mother sighed, and patted his shoulder. But crying had never gotten him out of trouble or stopped his parents from making his day worse, and that wouldn't start now. They sat on the couch together, and Aziraphale had about five seconds of peace.

"Aziraphale." He sniffed, looking up at his mother. His father was sitting there as well, looking serious.

"Yes?"

"...The man called you a snake-loving brat, and I don't think it's a coincidence that the plush Miss Bea made you was a snake. You know why this happened, and I need you to tell us." Aziraphale cried harder, but his parents stared at him expectantly.

"I...I...I can't…" Gabriel opened his mouth, but Uriel stopped him.

"He's a child, Gabriel, this isn't an interrogation as you're used to it. Why can't you, Aziraphale?"

"C-Crowley...he already gets teased at school, and he said people used to try to hurt his dad...It-it's a secret, I promised I wouldn't tell anybody!" 

"Aziraphale." His mother said, and Aziraphale looked at her.

"What's my job?"

"Job? You...work for the minister. Both of you do."

"Yes, we do. And what do we do in our jobs?"

"You...you...have secret meetings, and do secret things, and...keep lots of secrets…" Uriel nodded.

"Yes. Mummy and daddy keep lots of secrets, and we're very good at it. I promise, Aziraphale, what you say will not leave this room. It'll be just another secret we keep, and I promise we keep secrets much more important than yours." 

"...You'll make me stop seeing him, and I don't want to, he's my friend."

"Only if we think your life will be further put in danger by being around him."

"...I haven't been in danger before."

"Then we won't stop you from being with Crowley."

"...He...I promised…"

"And nothing you say will leave this room." 

"Crowley...His...his father...he...he's...a snake. Crowley...I lied when I said he had sensitive eyes. He...his eyes...look like snake eyes. People tease him about his glasses...Crowley...Well...people can't find out about him, they'll hate him…"

"Nobody's going to know, Aziraphale, now, why do you think the man tried to kill you?"

"...Because I'm friends with Crowley," he finally admitted, "But I don't want to stop seeing him!"

"I don't think it would stop either way. Alright. Your father and I will put up extra security measures. Go to sleep, Aziraphale. You can read Crowley's letters in the morning."

The next morning, there was another letter from Crowley, and they all had the same general gist: I'm worried, please write back.

_ Crowley, _

_I'm alright, I'm sorry to suddenly stop writing. Something happened._ _I_ _There was_

_...I can't talk about it right now. I...just can't. I'm too upset. I… _

_ I had to tell mum. About...I shouldn't write it here. I had to tell her. I'm really sorry, Crowley. ...Circumstances...I had to. It was really important.  _

_ I'm sorry I'm being so secretive, I don't mean to, I'm just...really really upset right now. I'll...send you another letter tomorrow. Hopefully. _

_ Aziraphale _

***

**_"Is that from Aziraphale?"_ ** Astrid asked hopefully. Crowley had been a mess, not having heard from Aziraphale. Assurances of 'he just forgot' only went so far, after all.

**_"Yes. But…it's strange. It doesn't sound like any of his normal letters."_ **

**_"What does it say?"_ **

**_"He's sorry he stopped writing, something happened, but he's too upset to say what, he says he had to tell his mother about something he doesn't say, and he's sorry for telling his mum that something, and he says sorry he's being so secretive, he's just really upset, and he'll send another letter tomorrow. Hopefully."_ **

**_"Strange...I hope he's alright."_ **

**_"He says he is in his letters, but I don't know."_ **

**_"Perhaps, in your next letter, ask if he will still be returning to Hogwarts. At least then you know you'll see him in three days' time."_ **

**_"I will."_ **

***

_ Aziraphale, _

_ I'm really glad to hear from you. I've been worried. You sounded really upset in your letter. Is everything alright? Is there anything I can do? Are you still coming back to school? _

_ Crowley _

***

_ Crowley, _

_ Yes, I'm still coming back to school. I just really want to see you again. I wish I could stay with you. I...I've been really using that plush Bea gave me, of Astrid. It...feels like he's protecting me. So tell him thanks for me. _

_ Aziraphale _

***

**_"Another letter from Aziraphale?"_ **

**_"Yes. I think...I think something bad happened over the break. He says he's been using that plush mum gave him, and it makes him feel like you're protecting him."_ **

**_"Is he coming back to school?"_ **

**_"Yes."_ **

**_"Then we'll see him in two days' time."_ **


	17. At the Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...live? I've been struggling with what to do for this January-March period, and for the sake of continuing the story I've decided to mostly yada-yada over it. Sorry not sorry. I may not be as deep in the Good Omens Fandom as I was, but I'm still in love with this fic and I will still continue writing it!

Aziraphale was at the station. His parents were not going to leave his side until he was safely in Mr. Crowley's care, and when he found Crowley and his father he ran for them, already crying.

"Crowley…!" He wailed, and Crowley turned in time to get an armful of sobbing angel. Astrid put his hands on Aziraphale's back, eyes full of concern, and Aziraphale blindly reached out until he could wrap an arm around Astrid and sob into his chest while still keeping one cheek touching Crowley's shoulder. Crowley, meanwhile, finally found his voice.

"Zi-" Crowley collected himself and tried again.

"B-bloody hell Aziraphale, are you alright?" Aziraphale sobbed louder by way of reply. He seemed to be trying to speak but still too upset to form words yet.

"Mr. Crowley, pleasure to meet you, my name is Gabriel Fell, I'm Aziraphale's father." Astrid smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Dad...doesn't talk much, he doesn't really do people," Crowley said carefully, and Gabriel nodded.

"That's alright, I'll be quick." He lowered his voice considerably, leaning in. "Mr. Crowley, this is a bit of a delicate issue, but I need you to know that there was an attempt on my son's life over the break."

" **_WHAT?!_ ** " Crowley shouted, but he had enough presence to nod meaningfully at Astrid, who did the same, nodding solemnly at Gabriel. People stared, but Crowley glared at them until they went on their way, then turned his attention back to Aziraphale.

"Bloody fucking hell, Aziraphale, what the fuck? Bloody hell, come here, it's alright, shh, we'll take care of you, we won't let anyone hurt you, fucking shit…" Aziraphale clung to Crowley with his free arm like his life depended on it, and Crowley clung back just as hard.

"It's clear to me that Aziraphale isn't safe at our home. We'd like to have him spend more time with you to avoid something like this happening again, but...well, I worry about the possibility of a repeat incident, and I would never wish to put your son at risk…

"It's fine," Crowley said immediately, "Aziraphale is family and we're no strangers to turning away trespassers. He'll be safe with us. Nobody is going to touch him." Crowley nodded, and his father did the same.

"Thank you," Uriel said, "It's not so much an issue of our prowess, being aurors we had no trouble turning the culprit away, but…" She gestured to Aziraphale, "It hasn't stopped nearly the entire time. He's upset enough, I don't want this happening again...well, ever, but at least not until he's recovered from this one, perhaps grown a bit thicker skin. Of course we're very on edge about the whole affair, especially since it was very clearly Aziraphale and not us they were after." Crowley nodded, Astrid followed suit.

"The reason behind the attack…" Gabriel continued, "Forgive me, this is very delicate...It seems to have been Aziraphale's friendship with your son." Crowley's mouth dropped open, and then his eyes filled with tears. Astrid looked to Crowley for a cue, but when he got none he settled for nodding again, tentatively.

"Now, I hold absolutely no delusions that these attacks will stop if Aziraphale were to distance himself from your son, and he doesn't want to, so perish the thought. It is, however, something that needs saying. Your son said you were no strangers to turning away unpleasant company, and if that's true, then I trust Aziraphale will be all the safer in your care. Before we go, did you have any concerns, questions…?"

"No," Crowley said, finally getting his voice back, "But I promise we'll write if anything comes up." Gabriel nodded.

"Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Aziraphale, you don't leave Crowley's side, alright?" Aziraphale nodded, and made a choked sound that might have been an assent.

"Alright. We love you kiddo, stay safe." 

"Goodbye pumpkin, mummy loves you."

Crowley sighed and hugged Aziraphale tighter the moment they left.

"I'm so sorry, Aziraphale, I'm so sorry." Aziraphale sobbed, and Astrid bent down to be fully on their level, tapping Crowley insistently for a translation of the conversation.

**_"Somebody tried to kill him over the break for being friends with me."_ ** Crowley supplied. Astrid hissed, low and dangerous.

**_"His parents want him to stay with us because he's not safe at home and they want him to toughen up a little before it happens again."_ **

**_"Aziraphale is well within his rights to cry, look at him, I can only imagine he knew full well an attempt on his life was being made. Is Aziraphale...still friends with you?"_ **

"We're...still friends right?"

" _How dare you even_ ** _ask_** _that, Crowley! How dare you, of course we're still friends_ , _you_ **_bloody idiot!_** "

**_"Of course we're still friends, you bloody idiot,"_ ** Crowley translated with a smile. Astrid closed his eyes, and the train's whistle blew.

**_"You have to go. Give Aziraphale my deepest apologies, and promise that no harm will come to him while he is at our home over the break. Tell him I love him, so much. And I love_ ** **_you_ ** **_, Crowley. My beautiful son."_ ** Crowley nodded.

_ "Goodbye,"  _ Aziraphale said, and it was clearly an attempt at parseltongue, but he was crying too hard for it to be any more than poor English. Astrid got the message, and bent down to wrap his arms fully around Aziraphale and press his lips to his cheek.

**_"Goodbye,"_ ** Astrid replied, and Aziraphale nodded tearfully. 

"Come on, Aziraphale." Crowley gently steered them toward the train, and Aziraphale looked back at Astrid, then suddenly broke down again.

"I don't want to go!" He sobbed, and Crowley pulled him close, not quite able to stop his own tears.

"I know. I know." Aziraphale sobbed all the way onto the train, and for a good portion of the journey back, and even once he had stopped crying he didn't say a word, just clung to Crowley as though trying to disappear inside of him to hide.


	18. The Culprit

"I don't want to…" Aziraphale moaned when the train came to a stop. 

"I know. We'll get some food in you. Food sounds good, right? Get some food, then you can go straight to sleep, and…"

"Then I have class tomorrow," Aziraphale finished.

"But...but...maybe you'll see professor flitwick! And...and do charms! Hey?" Aziraphale didn't look convinced.

***

The next morning, Aziraphale had History of Magic. It wasn't charms, but it was something. Aziraphale was noticeably more subdued during the day, though, quiet and prone to tears. Crowley noticed several teachers quietly letting Aziraphale get away with murder, up to and including snacks in class. They didn't know what was going on, but they saw Aziraphale's undampenable flame burning out.

Aziraphale took to sitting alone, during his breaks, where he could cry alone. Alone, alone, not with Crowley.

"Aziraphale…I'm here for you," Crowley said, one such day when he found him alone. Aziraphale shook his head.

"I...I'll be alright, Crowley, don't worry about me."

"You're not alright, Aziraphale. I know you're not. Let me in, Aziraphale, let me help." Aziraphale shook his head.

"...No."

"Aziraphale, please! Look, I...I…" Crowley faltered.

"...I...I know...you're probably...really upset...or, no...you think I'm upset...about...about how...that guy tried to kill you for being friends with me...You think I'm upset enough with mum, and now you almost getting killed...but look, Aziraphale. Look, I...right now, all I want is to help you. Just...just...I just...I just...I don't like seeing you in pain, Aziraphale. Just…" He faltered again, and sighed.

"It's been months, Aziraphale. I'm not gonna cry at the drop of a hat, promise." Aziraphale nodded.

"...I'm upset about what happened," he finally said.

"Well, 'course you are. You're thirteen years old, Aziraphale, that kinda shit...it's not supposed to happen. Adults are supposed to protect kids. And...and...look...Just 'cause whoever it was didn't like me...it was wrong of them to go after you. I'm...really sorry." Aziraphale sighed.

"I feel so alone, Crowley...I don't have any friends, people are trying to kill me…"

"Person," Crowley corrected, "One person tried to kill you. And you have one two - three, I'm counting my mum - four five six people that love you, just that I can think of right now. And that's not including your parents because...nevermind. Let's not talk about that right now." Aziraphale let out a small chuckle.

"...So I have more people that love me than want to kill me, right?" Crowley shrugged.

"And besides...it's not the number of friends you've got, it's the quality, you said that yourself. You've got tons and tons of friends, but they're never real friends. It's the same for everyone else, I bet. Tons and tons of fake friends…but you've got me. Thick as thieves, me and you. And that's never gonna change. Even if...even if we had a big fight and stopped talking to eachother, I'd always be there for you. If something like this happened again and you needed a shoulder to cry on I'd let you, no matter how mad I was. This stuff...is serious. So just...whatever happens...I'm in your corner. Promise. No matter what." Aziraphale smiled.

"And I'm-" his eyes brimmed with tears, but he fought them back, "I'm in your corner too."

***

The time between January and March was strained, but ultimately uneventful, with one major exception. A boy Aziraphale had never met before came to tap him on the shoulder after Potions class.

"Can I talk to you, Aziraphale? And...and Crowley?"

"Of course. Crowley and I were going to meet-" He paused. He was going to say "in the room of requirement", but the words seemed like a bad idea.

"in the library to study. You can meet us there. Seven tonight?"

"Okay. See you there."

***

"Look, I'm not complaining about you missing one of your parents' fucked up spell training sessions, but can you at least acknowledge that agreeing to meet someone in private is a bit thick of you, given the circumstances?"

"Why do you think I didn't tell him where we would really be? And besides, I have you." Aziraphale took a breath.

"And I have me. A man tried to kill me and I'm still here. That wasn't all luck, Crowley, I'm still the best spellcaster at our school." Crowley sighed.

"You've got me there. I don't like it, but...you're damn good at spells, Aziraphale." Aziraphale looked over Crowley's shoulder, and Crowley turned to see a boy walking towards them.

"Aziraphale, Crowley. Thanks for agreeing to see me." Crowley shrugged.

"Why all the secrecy?" he asked, "we could have easily met in the courtyard."

"I...look, I...this isn't really easy for me to say."

"It...it's alright," Aziraphale said, "Take your time." The boy nodded.

"...It was me. It was my dad. Over Christmas." The boy shuffled on his feet, picking anxiously at his fingernails. Aziraphale and Crowley blinked several times.

"You…" Aziraphale finally began, "You, er...I'm so...I'm really...that is...erm...I understand...this must be...difficult, for you. As well." The boy nodded.

"Look, I...My dad...what he did was wrong. I know that, I do, and I'm not sorry he's spending the rest of his life in Azkaban for it. But...yeah, he's my dad, and you're right, I'm pretty upset. But...I just...I just...feel like...like I need to say...that...that was  _ him _ , okay? Him alone. I don't...We've never been friends, but that's just cause...cause we're in different houses and don't really have time to talk. I...I just...I don't...really care, about...you guys being friends."

"Wait, but how do you know about my eyes?" Crowley demanded.

"I...um...it's hard to explain?"

" _ Try _ ," Crowley hissed. Aziraphale put a hand on his arm.

"Well...When they questioned dad...He said...Someone at his work knew, and told dad, and I guess whoever told dad didn't want to...er...do anything about it...so...dad kind of...did it instead. I swear I didn't know anything about it before all of this happened, I thought what everyone else thinks, that you're just a weird kid who maybe has a genetic defect with his eyes or something. I still don't actually know, mum just said dad did something really bad, and I remember he went out on Christmas and he was acting strange...and then we all came back and everyone was talking about how someone tried to kill Aziraphale the same day dad went out, and now he's in Azkaban for life...I...well...two plus two is four, right?"

"Alright," Aziraphale said. "I understand. And I don't blame you for what your father did, either. I'm really sorry you're having a bad time right now, and I hope things get better on your end. I...I won't...tell anyone, either, about what your dad did. After this, we'll just...go back to not speaking to eachother?" The boy smiled.

"I...I don't know if anyone's told you this, but…you're  _ really  _ nice, Aziraphale."

"I have been told, yes, but thank you. I...do my best to be nice every day, and I'm glad it's paying off."

"It really is. Alright. Goodnight, Aziraphale, Goodnight Crowley."

"Goodnight."

"Yeah, whatever. Night."


	19. Stomachache

March break came after that, and Aziraphale all but ran into Astrid's arms at the station.

"I missed you, Astrid, I missed you so much, I slept with your plush every night!" Astrid held him tight, and all three stayed in the same room at all times. This was usual for them, but moreso now. Crowley regaled Astrid with tales of what happened at school, especially their talk with the nameless boy, and Astrid listening from the comfort of Aziraphale's arms. Now that the real thing was there, Aziraphale simply would not be satisfied with a plush.

**_"I was wondering…"_ ** Astrid began,  **_"About Aziraphale...That is, well...the killing curse is unblockable, as I understand it. I am curious how he survived. If...he is willing to tell."_ **

**_"I can't promise anything, but I'll ask."_ ** "Aziraphale? Er...if you feel up to talking...dad's wondering how you...didn't...er...die. The killing curse being unblockable and all."

"I fell, when the wall exploded."

**_"I fell, when the wall exploded,"_ ** Crowley translated as Aziraphale spoke,  **_"The killing curse went right over my head. After that I hit him with a spell, and mom put a spell on me so I'd be warm then told me to run. I ran into the forest, and...mum found me when everything was all over. I...tried to jinx her, I was still really scared, but she said she was proud of me, because being suspicious was a quality of a good auror. She even gave me hot chocolate when we were...at the other place. The aurors made us go stay somewhere else for a few days, that's why I couldn't write. The aurors asked me a bunch of questions about what happened and...I had to tell them about you. Somebody had tried to kill me, I had to tell the truth, it was really really important. I didn't want to, but...somebody tried to kill me. I had to tell them everything I knew. Mom and dad asked me too, but they keep secrets for their job, so they won't tell anyone, and aurors are aurors, they just wanted to make sure I was safe."_ **

"You fought back?" It was Astrid Crowley was translating now, "I don't approve of your parents' methods, but...given the situation, it was right to jinx first and ask questions later. And to know that you fought the man who was trying to kill you...You're very, very brave, Aziraphale, and that will get you far in life. Just be sure bravery does not turn to recklessness." Aziraphale nodded at Astrid.

"Promise."

**_"Crowley, same to you."_ **

**_"Promise. I won't do anything stupid."_ **

***

**_“Dinner,”_ ** Astrid said, and both boys took their plates, Crowley with more eagerness than Aziraphale. Crowley ate with more eagerness than Aziraphale, too, both Crowley and Astrid noticing that Aziraphale had only taken a few tiny bites.

“Not hungry, Aziraphale?” Crowley asked.

“I...I feel a little...unwell,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t want to upset my stomach by eating anything too heavy.” Crowley nodded.

“Try to eat at least a little bit, alright? Don’t want you going hungry.”

“Alright.”

**_“He’s not feeling well,”_ ** Crowley translated for his father  **_“He doesn’t want to make his stomach worse.”_ **

**_“Is it my cooking? Humans get sick when they eat something unpleasant, and I am not yet fully accustomed to cooking…”_ **

**_“Don’t think so. These sorts of things usually go away on their own with humans, nothing to worry about.”_ **

**_“I hope you are right.”_ **

Aziraphale ended up eating only about a third of what was on his plate. He drank some water, and assured them both that he’d be alright.

The next morning, Aziraphale’s stomach issue hadn’t gone away. He ate breakfast slowly, and as the day progressed he began to complain of a mild pain. A few days later the pain had yet to subside, and was slowly getting worse.

“Is it the same thing as what happened last year, do you think?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded.

“It...it feels like it, but it’s never happened this often before. Last time it happened was when I was ten, and then five whole years before that. It...it’s never been this much of an issue before, that’s why my parents never worried too much about it…” Crowley sighed.

“I hate the thought of just waiting for it to go away, you were in so much pain last time…”

“Even Madam Pomfrey couldn’t do anything, and sleeping potions were just awful…” Crowley sighed again.

“At least you’re at home with us, whatever good that’ll do.”

**_“Is he sick?”_ ** Astrid asked,  **_“Does he need to go to St. Mungo’s?”_ **

**_“St. Mungo’s won’t do any good, it’s the same as what happened last year. The pain’ll just keep getting worse and worse, and then it’ll just go away randomly. Madam Pomfrey couldn’t do anything, and Aziraphale’s parents probably got someone at St. Mungo’s fired for not being able to help last time. Nothing to do but leave it be... unfortunately.”_ **

**_“Does rest help?”_ **

**_“Well, it certainly won’t hurt.”_ ** Astrid seemed to frown.

The pain did indeed get worse over the break. Astrid charged Crowley with food, spending his days in bed beside Aziraphale. Astrid got more and more worried as Azirapahle’s condition worsened, refusing to move from his son’s side.

**_"It'll go away eventually,"_ ** Crowley said,  **_"It did last time, and the two times before that, according to what Aziraphale said."_ **

**_"I know that, but that doesn't make it any easier to see him like this."_ **

***

"Here, angel. Try to eat something," Crolwey murmured. Aziraphale groaned, and Astrid, already wrapped comfortingly around Aziraphale, squeezed him a little tighter and nuzzled him.

"Crowley, I...I'm not sure I can…"

"I know. A few bites, for me?" Aziraphale sat up, groaning all the while, and took the fork. He ate slowly, and Crowley noticed his breathing was slightly laboured from pain.

"It should...go away soon, right?" Crowley asked hopefully, "Last time it was only a couple of weeks, and it's already been a week and a half." 

"I...I don't know, Crowley." He sounded so, so tired. 

Aziraphale ate well despite the pain, seeming to realize with each bite that he was indeed hungry. Crowley smiled wider the more he ate, and he gave Aziraphale a hug when he finished.

"Good. Got some proper food in you." Aziraphale nodded, but said nothing.

***

It was five whole days later when it went away. It was late afternoon, the sun low in the sky. Aziraphale was curled up, with one of Astrid's coils pressed against his stomach in a vain attempt to ease the pain. It was slightly uncomfortable on Astrid's part, but Aziraphale, a thirteen year-old boy, could not press with enough force for it to be anything more than mildly inconvenient, no matter how much pain he was in. Astrid was dozing when Aziraphale suddenly froze, then sucked in a breath. Astrid’s focus sharpened. Aziraphale took many careful breaths, then relaxed, his arms moving to pull Astrid against his chest instead of his stomach. In one fell swoop, his muscles relaxed and Astrid nudged Aziraphale’s cheek.

**_“Good?”_ ** he asked, and Aziraphale nodded.

“Yes. I’m better now.” Astrid heard “yes” and “better”, and that was all he needed. He nuzzled Aziraphale, rubbing their cheeks together and flicking his tongue out so it tickled Aziraphale’s nose, and Aziraphale smiled.

“Yes, I’m happy to be better too,” he said, and Astrid caught “yes”, “happy”, and “better”, but then Aziraphale’s mouth opened in a yawn. That made sense; being in excruciating pain was hardly conducive to sleep. With Aziraphale no longer in pain, that could easily be remedied.

**_“Ssssssleep,”_ ** Astrid said, and Aziraphale closed his eyes immediately.

***

**_“How is he?”_ ** Crowley asked.

**_“Better. The pain suddenly went away, just as you said. He is sleeping now, though not well. He is…”_ ** Astrid paused for a long time.  **_“...Restless.”_ **

**_“Well, yes. It’s been a long time, I don’t think he’d sleep like a baby after weeks of pain.”_ **

**_“Of course not, and I don’t expect him to, I just prefer it when Aziraphale sleeps peacefully. When he is restless, he is fitful, and when he is fitful…”_ **

**_“...When he is fitful…?”_ **

**_“He becomes...difficult to sleep with.”_ **

**_“Difficult how?”_ **

**_“He is...anxious. He cuddles close, for comfort. I do not begrudge him this, it’s just that this, combined with his restlessness, makes for an unpleasant combination.”_ **

**_“I’m not following,”_ ** Crowley said, but Aziraphale chose that moment to stir. He groaned, shifting. He was facing away from Crowley, but then he turned so he was facing him, and as he did so Astrid was forcibly tugged over Aziraphale’s body so he could keep holding him. To add insult to injury, Aziraphale nuzzled his face into Astrid’s coils, groaning again. And then Aziraphale shifted again, laying on top of the thicker part of Astrid’s body. He groaned, again, then rolled onto his back, leaving one arm around Astrid to hold him close. When he was sure Aziraphale had settled, Astrid settled himself back on top of Aziraphale’s body as best he could. 

Crowley, for his part, was doubled over and trying to laugh as silently as he could.

**_“…Yes, alright, go ahead and laugh,”_ ** Astrid said, flicking his tongue out playfully.

**_“Oversized teddy bear,”_ ** Crowley gasped out between gasps for air.

***

Aziraphale, it seemed, had completely recovered, the pain vanishing suddenly and mysteriously, as though it were never there.

“Same as last time,” Crowley said, “That’s really weird, angel. And you don’t know what causes it?” Aziraphale shook his head.

“When it started to get really bad, mum and dad took me to St. Mungo’s to get it treated. I stayed there for weeks, and nothing they did helped. Sleeping potions didn’t help, nothing they did, pain relievers, none of it worked. When it went away, they still weren’t any closer to figuring out what had been causing it, or what had changed for it to just suddenly go away. Dad lost his mind, was so angry that nobody could figure it out, but..well, there was nothing to be done. Dad didn’t let me have any treats for a week, though, just in case that was the problem. And they both made me stay in bed the next week, too, to make sure it was gone. Wouldn’t let me leave, no matter how much I told them I was fine. Same thing when I was ten.”

“How many times has this happened before?”

“Only three times - well, four now. Once when I was five, once when I was ten, and then last summer. And now.”

“That’s weird, angel. Does...each time it happens...does the pain get worse, d’you think?”

“I...don’t think so...well, maybe...I’m not really sure. It’s all...just awful. There isn’t really much point in deciding whether one is more or less awful than the other, at that point. Mum told me I was screaming, when I was little, but..that was because I was little.”

“...Weird.”


	20. Tragedy

Astrid hugged them silently before they boarded the train, as was their habit. In a crowded place like King’s Cross, Astrid speaking parseltongue wouldn’t exactly be the best idea.

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, and promptly ran off to find a station security guard.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley shouted after him, but he was gone for no more than a few seconds. He came back with a piece of parchment and pressed it into Astrid’s hand.

“Sign language,” Crowley read, “...He doesn’t read English, angel.”

“He doesn’t need to, he needs to find the same...shape...oh, it was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”

“Little bit,” Crowley said, “but we’ll go look over the summer, okay?”

“Okay.” Meanwhile Astrid, always happy to be included in human conversations somehow, smiled an adorable smile that said ‘I don’t know what this is but I’ll treasure it anyway because you gave it to me.’

**_“It’s something muggles do,”_ ** Crowley whispered after pulling Astrid down into a hug,  **_“They use their hands to talk when they can’t speak. Aziraphale’s been thinking maybe we could all learn sign language so we can talk even if you can’t use parseltongue.”_ **

**_“Inventive,”_ ** Astrid replied,  **_“But how does he expect me to find a book on the subject, or learn from it, when I can’t read?”_ **

**_“He...didn’t think that far ahead.”_ ** Astrid laughed quietly.

***

When they got back to Hogwarts, the first thing they noticed was the black banners on the ceiling. Normally the house colours adorned the ceiling above the tables, along with the night sky and the candles, but today there were no colours, only black. The air in the great hall was sombre, with kids looking around nervously. Aziraphale felt a dread in his heart that he couldn’t shake off. Where was Angelina? This couldn’t be about her, could it? No, that was ridiculous.

“What’s going on?” Crowley asked.

“I...I don’t know, but...but I…”

“What?”

“...I’m worried about Angelina.” Crowley looked back up at the black banners and seemed to catch on to what he was saying.

“Angelina’s fine, Aziraphale. She’s around here somewhere, you just can’t see her because there are a lot of kids.”

“I...I don’t know…”

“She’s fine, Aziraphale. Promise. It’s something else. I don’t know what, but...it’s something else.” They had no more time to talk after that, as everyone filed away to their own tables. They sat and Dumbledore stood, raising his hands for quiet in the hall.

“I wish, very much, that I could welcome you all back with a lighthearted jest as I normally do, but to do so would be utterly disrespectful. Today, we mourn the loss of one of our own. This past break, Angelina Richards tragically suffered an accident while at home with her family. Because of this accident...Angelina is no longer with us.” A collective gasp came from the Hufflepuff table, along with the immediate sound of quite a few people bursting into tears.

“Angelina Richards was a bright and studious girl, she always had something kind to say, and she was an especially forgiving soul. She was never too busy to help a fellow classmate study, or to lend a hand, and her loss will impact the school deeply for a long time to come. Those who knew her, those who didn’t, anyone who so much as passed her in the halls or heard tell of her kindness will miss her. Those who didn’t will still mourn the loss of a classmate, a housemate, and a fellow student of Hogwarts. Angelina was...too young. She was light, and full of life, and she will be sorely missed by all who knew her. Now, please...A moment of silence.”

At the Hufflepuff table, there wasn’t a dry eye in sight. Boys, girls, young, old, it didn’t matter, everyone had been moved to tears by Dumbledore’s heartfelt speech. Everyone at the Hufflepuff table had their arms around someone else, save for the few that had buried their faces into their arms on the table. Crowley’s spotted Aziraphale, a familiar tuft of white hair that was now being held by an older boy with golden skin and shoulder-length curly brown hair. He appeared to be murmuring something to Aziraphale, but at this distance Crowley couldn’t hear what. Looking around the great hall, Crowley could tell exactly which students had at some point been cursed with the grim, as they all had similar expressions of “I’m going to have to console a bunch of grieving third years in ten minutes’ time” on their faces. Adam and Eve, at the Ravenclaw table, were having a whispered conversation with very serious expressions on their faces. No doubt coming up with a game plan for when the ceremony was over.

“...Thank you. In light of this tragedy, I am cancelling classes for the next three days. They will resume on Thursday. Until then, do whatever you feel is appropriate, mourn however you need to, and remember that we are all here for you in this trying time, and you are welcome to speak to myself or any of the other teachers at any time, even after classes have resumed. Thank you. Dinner is served.”

With that, the usual banquet appeared on the table. The ghosts wandered the great hall, speaking quietly to students as they went. The golden-skinned boy from earlier was putting some mashed potatoes on Aziraphale’s plate, and seemed to be gently encouraging him to eat. Crowley, for his part, ate in silence, listening to the talk at the table.

“That’s so awful…”

“Can’t imagine what her friends are going through…”

“The whole house is a wreck, look at them. I feel awful, I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if it was one of my friends…”

“My gran died last year, I couldn’t get over it for the longest time. It’s horrible, losing someone.”

“And Trelawney predicted her death, can you imagine?”

“But McGonagall said she’d been doing the same thing for like forty years, remember?”

“What if she was right this time?”

“No, she just got lucky. Besides, that Angelina girl died, we really shouldn’t be talking about whether or not Trelawney was right.”

“Everyone’s thinking it.”

“Yeah, but let’s...let’s let Hufflepuff house figure that stuff out before we go around saying anything, alright? Let them have some space, is all."

“Crowley?”

“...Huh?”

“D’you think Aziraphale’s gonna be okay? I know he’s your friend…”

“He’s gonna be a mess, there’s no way in hell he’s going to be okay about this,” Crowley replied. If this was anywhere near what a wreck Aziraphale was when Bea died...Crowley would risk getting in trouble hanging near the Hufflepuff dorms after hours in case - no, not in case, when - Aziraphale’s insomnia kicked in and he started to wander. Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to handle getting in trouble on top of everything.

The second the meal was over, Crowley went over. Aziraphale had stopped crying, but the look on his face suggested that was temporary at best.

“Aziraphale. I’m so sorry.” Aziraphale was crying again.

“It’s all my fault, Crowley…”

“No, Aziraphale, no, that teacup thing was just bullshit, you know that-”

“It’s all my fault, Crowley!”

“It’s not, angel, it’s not, I promise, I promise.” The golden-skinned boy squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“He’s been saying that since he found out, convinced he should’ve known. I’ll stick by him over the next little while, okay? No offense, but you can’t exactly go in the Hufflepuff dorms…”

“It’d be great to know there was somebody taking care of him when I couldn’t. Sorry, you are…?

“Chamuel. I’m a fifth year.”

“Got it. Thanks, Chamuel. Aziraphale, have you eaten something?” Aziraphale nodded.

“Some potatoes…”

“Alright. Listen, if you get hungry tonight, send me a note and I’ll get you some stuff from the kitchens, okay?”

“Crowley,” Chamuel cut in, “You can’t steal from the kitchens.”

“Would you rather he starved tonight because he’s too upset to eat now?”

“Of course not. I’ll...hide a few biscuits in my robes, in case he wants them, okay? Just...better than stealing from the kitchens.” Crowley shrugged.

“Sure. Keep an eye on him at night, okay? He...when my mum died, he was up at all hours of the night.” Chamuel nodded.

“Alright.”


	21. Chamuel

Later that night, Aziraphale gave up on sleep and crept downstairs in his night robes. Chamuel was dozing on a chair, drooling slightly, and Aziraphale gently shook him awake.

“Chamuel?’   


“Hmm? Az-Aziraphale? What is it?”

“You should get to bed, Chamuel, it’s not healthy to sleep in a chair like this.” Chamuel shook his head.

“And you? Crowley said you’d be awake at all hours of the night. Is this about...Angelina?”

“I…” Aziraphale looked away, and Chamuel sighed.

“Look, I know we only met today, but you can talk to me, Aziraphale. I promised Crowley I’d be there for you, and I plan on keeping that promise.” Aziraphale shook his head.

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“What I think doesn’t matter, Aziraphale. I never said I would agree with what you said, or that I would feel the same way you do, but...I promise to listen with an open mind, and to be as understanding as I possibly can, okay?” Aziraphale deliberated.

“...It was my fault Angelina died.”

“...How so?”

“I could have stopped it, and I didn’t.” 

“Were you with her, when she died? It...didn’t seem like you knew about her death before Dumbledore told us.”

“...No, I wasn’t with her, but…”

“But…?” Chamuel prompted him gently.

“Early this year...Professor Trelawney...“ Chamuel nodded, like he knew what Aziraphale was going to say, but didn’t interrupt. “...Said Angelina was going to die.”

“I heard about that. That was in September, do you think that relates to her accident over the break?” Aziraphale shook his head.

“I don’t...I don’t know. She always said I had a gift for divination, and...now that I think about it...I think maybe she was right.”

“Okay, how so?”

“I...I sometimes get...these...stomach pains. They last for weeks, and then they just suddenly go away. I...We never knew what was causing it, they seemed to come and go at random, but...Now…”

“Go on,” Chamuel prompted gently. Aziraphale was right; Chamuel so far thought he was absolutely ridiculous to be blaming himself for Angelina’s death, but he had promised to listen without judgement, and listen without judgement he would.

“Well, I...I got stomach pains when I was five, they went away, and then I found out my uncle Sam died in an accident. They happened again when I was ten, they went away, and I found out my Aunt Bodelia died of an illness. They happened last summer, and the pain went away just seconds before we learned Crowley’s mother had died. They happened over the spring break, and…”

“Now Angelina’s died in an accident,” Chamuel finished for him. When Aziraphale put it like that, it certainly was a strange coincidence, that these stomach pains should go away and he should learn of a death shortly after.

“...You think, if I understand correctly, that the stomach pains are a warning? An omen of death?”

“They get worse and worse, like...now I think about it...like it’s getting more and more insistent, telling me I have to do something. When they go away...That’s...when the death happens.” Chamuel thought, choosing his words carefully.

“With...Crowley’s mother…” he began, “The way you said it, it sounds to me like the pain went away before you found out she had died, not before she died. Perhaps...It’s...less an omen of death, and more an omen of...news of death? In which case...Angelina may have been dead before the pain went away, and it was just telling you that...that you were going to hear about somebody’s death.” Aziraphale shook his head.

“I don’t know. But...I...Trelawney predicted her death, and...If I had only realized sooner what the stomach pains meant, I could have sent an owl, telling her to be careful…”

“Aziraphale...You’ll drive yourself mad if you think like that. How were you supposed to know? And from what you say, it sounds like it could mean either ‘someone is going to die’, or ‘someone has died’. In either case...that’s not exactly much to go off of. I imagine you know a lot of somebodies in your life, there’d be no way of knowing which ‘somebody’ it was going to be, and you can’t tell everyone to lock themselves inside until you decide the danger has passed. What if you had warned Angelina and it had turned out to be someone else? Whatever this is...it’s not...specific enough for you to do anything. If...if it is what you say it is...Even then...you couldn’t have saved her.”

“If I’d seen earlier...Trelawney’s been asking me to develop my sight, I should have listened…!”

“Aziraphale, please, stop, please. You’ll drive yourself mad like this, Aziraphale. Divinations isn’t exactly my favourite subject, but...but even Trelawney will tell you...sometimes the future isn’t meant to be changed. If...if you didn’t know...then that means there’s nothing you could have done. There was nothing you could have done. It wasn’t your fault.” One look in Aziraphale’s eyes said he wasn’t ready to listen yet.

***

"Aziraphale."

"You shouldn't be sleeping down in the common rooms, Chamuel, it's not healthy."

"I can take it. I promised Crowley I'd be there for you, and I'm being here for you. How are you feeling?"

"A little hungry, I suppose."

"Here. I nicked some bread from dinner today. Er...please don't tell my parents, they'd go mad if they found out I'd broken a school rule."

"Thank you...Are your parents really strict?"

"Well, yeah, a bit. Mum and Dad work for the Department of Mysteries, and they're really important people, so reputation is important to them. I imagine you know what that's like."

"Yes, my parents are the same way. I actually think our parents might work together, they mentioned the son of a coworker once or twice."

"That'd be me, Chamuel Raphael Bell." Aziraphale smiled.

"Funny, your name is Bell and mine is Fell." Chamuel smiled back.

"We didn't do well in the last name department," he said.

"Well, we didn't do well in the first name department, either," Aziraphale replied lightly, "Do people ask you about your name all the time?"

"Well no, because of my parents, but I can tell they really want to. Chamuel and Raphael are angel's names."

"Same with Aziraphale. He was a guardian or something, mom thought it'd be good since I was going to be an auror."

"Same. Raphael was a healer, and Chamuel was a therapist or something. They want me to be a doctor, can you tell?" Aziraphale smiled.

"...What do you suppose angels need therapists for?" Aziraphale asked, and Chamuel laughed.

"For their terrible names, I suspect," he said, and Aziraphale smiled.

"...I don't remember the last time I smiled this much recently," Aziraphale said, "Thank you." Chamuel shrugged.

"It's fine. Figured you'd need some conversation while you're up at all hours of the night." Aziraphale hummed, then sighed.

"If only I'd been practicing like Professor Trelawney wanted me to…"

"You'll drive yourself mad thinking like that. If...if...if you didn't practice, then...this is the way things were meant to be, or something. I...I don't think there's a world where you decided to study divination, okay? We are who we are, and who we are helps us make decisions, and...we regret them sometimes because who we become knows we should have made a different choice, but...but that doesn't matter because the choice we made was right for who we were. ...I'm sorry, that probably didn't make sense…"

"No, it made perfect sense. And I think you're right. I just feel like...keeping her alive was right there, just out of reach, and if I'd only tried…"

"Who you were didn't want to study divination." Aziraphale nodded.

"...I think I want to study divination now," he said.

"If that's what you need, then by all means."


	22. The Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last chapter, but don't worry, I do still have plans for year four, I just need to get them organized into something that vaguely ressembles a plot. That said, if there's anything you feel I haven't covered enough, or anything you want to hear more about, tell me now while I'm in the planning stage for year four!

"Mr. Crowley, you've added the leswig flies too early again."

"Right, sorry, professor."

"After you stir, not before. Remember that this time."

"Yes, sir."

"...I hear Mr. Fell is prone to waterworks as of late, do I need to be prepared with tissues for next class?"

"No, he just needs time and a little space. Not doing as much crying anymore."

"...You may go, I will clean up the mess."

"Yes, sir."

***

"So Snape was asking if he needs tissues for class because you've been crying a lot."

"Is it that bad?"

"It is, a little bit but you're a lot better. How're things coming along with Chamuel?"

"Oh, he's very nice. He's a great listener."

"Good."

"And your potions classes?"

"Good. I'm almost there, I feel. Soon I'll be able to brew mum's potion by memory."

"Good. She'd be proud of you, if she were still-" Aziraphale froze.

"...Angel?"

"It's my fault."

"What, about mum? Angel, you're being ridiculous."

"But my stomach-"

"Happened before we  _ learned  _ she had died. She  _ actually  _ died like a month before, and your stomach wasn't hurting then. I know you want to stop everyone from dying, Aziraphale, but it just isn't like that."

"But Trelawney told me I was good with divination, if I'd been practicing-"

"Well if and buts aren't going to change the fact that she's dead, so there's no point in fussing about it."

That, apparently, had been the wrong thing to say, as Aziraphale's mood soured immediately.

***

"You look...like you could use a distraction. Want to play a game? Exploding snap?"

"No thank you, Chamuel."

"Alright. Hungry? I brought some food from dinner."

"...A little, yes." Chamuel really wanted to know what had happened, but Aziraphale looked ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

"...Tell me something about you, Aziraphale."

"Well...I don't know...my parents want me to become an auror…"

"And what about your favourite colour?"

"Hmm...Red. Mr. Crowley is...er, has, red hair. Or pink, like the sweater Miss Bea gave me. Bea. She didn't like it when I called her Miss Bea."

"And you've become close with the family?"

"Yes, very."

"Good. I'm glad you have someone to help you through this."

"Well...I also have you, Chamuel. You've been very helpful, sneaking food from dinner and stuff…"

"All I'm good for is stealing," Chamuel sighed, smiling, "What will my parents think?" 

"Oh! I didn't- Oh…Well, no, you're good for...I was going to make a joke, but I can't think of a good way to finish it." Chamuel laughed.

"Well for the record, I thought you were going to say "I can't think of anything else you're good for", which would have made a nice joke." Aziraphale smiled.

"...Thank you, Chamuel. I...I can see you're trying, but…"

"Just want to sit in companionable silence? At...four in the morning?"

"Please, yes. Thank you."

***

_ Aziraphale, _

_ As we told you before, you are staying with Crowley over the summer. Please keep your wand handy at all times, and let us know if anything happens. _

_ Dad _

***

"So dad says I'm staying with you over the summer."

"Good."

"Mm. Anyways, I'm...I need to go. I'm...going to talk to Professor Trelawney." Crowley raised his eyebrows.

"...Alright then. Have fun."

***

"Aziraphale, my dear...Things have been difficult these past weeks...are your support systems helping you?"

"Er, yes. Listen, I...I…" He sighed.

"I want...lessons."

"Divination lessons."

"...Yes. I…" He looked away. He couldn't believe he was doing this, he could believe she had been  _ right _ !

"I...I get these...stomach pains...They start small, and then they get worse and worse...Each time...When I was five, they went away before I found out my uncle died, and when I was ten, I found out my aunt died shortly after, and last year, Crowley's mother, and then...over the break...Angelina…"

"I see…They sound very much like premonitions, and you were right to come to me. I think I am right in saying it was Angelina's passing that prompted you to come to me, and you musn't blame yourself, or think that you should have come to me sooner. Things happen as they must, and even divination cannot change that. I can, however, help you try to narrow down your predictions. As you say, however, divination is not an exact science, and you must understand that you will not be able to save everyone. Sometimes knowledge of the future can change it in ways we cannot understand. You will misinterpret things, you will not understand...What I mean to say, dear boy, is that if someone is destined to die...a prediction of this death is not a call to save them, but a chance for you to prepare yourself emotionally. Do you understand?"

"Yes, professor."

"Excellent. When are you free, dear boy? Does this time work for you? Say...for an hour?"

"Yes, this works."

"Excellent. Tell me about these premonitions of yours."

***

"So, how was your thing with Trelawney?"

"Good. She's going to try to teach me how to focus my premonitions."

"They're...Alright, angel. If it'll make you feel better."

"Of course it'll make me feel better. If I'd been paying attention, I could have saved them. Angelina...your mother…"

"Aziraphale, your stomach pains only started right before we got on the train home. Mum was already dead and gone by then, the best you could've done was told me early, and I wouldn't've believed you anyway. Besides, having the whole summer with dad was nice. As far as...finding out your mum is dead goes."

"We don't know that. If I'd been focusing, we could have known earlier-"

"Known what earlier, angel? She had an illness, there was no cure. She knew all the way back at the start of second year that she was going to die. Aziraphale, I hate to say this, but...you're being stupid, a little bit."

"Well I don't care!"

"Yes, I've realized that," Crowley quipped, but let the matter drop.

***

**_“Crowley.”_ ** Crowley and Aziraphale were waiting at the station, and Astrid was there.

And Aziraphale was crying. He buried his face in Astrid’s chest sobbing “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again, and Astrid frowned, kneeling down and hugging Aziraphale, stroking his hair.

**_“Sad,”_ ** he said, and Aziraphale hiccuped in response.

“It's all my fault, I’m so sorry…!”

“Bus,” Crowley said, and Astrid nodded. They would have more privacy on the bus. Crowley could quietly explain to Astrid what the issue was without anyone raising too many eyebrows at the use of parseltongue. As they walked, Astrid held Aziraphale close, and Aziraphale alternated between miserable silence and bouts of tears. When they flagged down the bus and climbed aboard, they sat on the second floor away from the other passengers.

**_"Why is Aziraphale upset? What is he sorry for?"_ ** Astrid demanded immediately.

**_"The stomach pains he was having, he thinks they predict someone's death. He thinks he could have...warned mum and stopped her from dying or something. I've told him he's being stupid, but…"_ **

**_"As I recall, you said the pain began a few weeks before you left school, correct? Your mother had already passed by that point."_ **

**_"I've told him that. He still thinks...I don't know."_ **

**_"...Perhaps I should have worried more about how distant Aziraphale became emotionally. But, there is no point in dwelling on the past. What's done is done. I will do my best to comfort him."_ **

**_"And tell him he's being stupid?"_ **

**_"If Aziraphale is not ready to listen, he's not ready to listen. As I see it, this is little more than an extension of your argument about his parents."_ ** Crowley blinked.

**_"...He'll figure it out at some point, I just need to be there to catch him when he falls."_ **

**_"Exactly. From what I know of Aziraphale, he is stubborn. I also would go so far as to argue that his parents have raised him to believe only what his parents have told him. If at any point they told him that he should have been better…"_ **

**_"...The more I hear about his parents, the more I hate them."_ **

**_"Well, there is nothing to be done. Be patient. Comfort Aziraphale as best you can. All will turn out, eventually."_ **


End file.
